


Arcana

by Aluxra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Background Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta - Freeform, Background Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, Background Relationships, M/M, McHanzo Reverse Bang 2018, Pre-Relationship, background Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier:76 | Jack Morrison - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: Jesse is held prisoner by Faust, a man dabbling in dark magic and science in the pursuit of immortality. Hanzo is searching for his brother, Genji, who has been recently been kidnapped by Faust and his servants. Crossing paths, they agree to aid one another to achieve their goals, though not without encountering a few obstacles on the way.Written for the McHanzo Reverse Big Bang 2018.





	1. XIX The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the McHanzo Reverse Big Bang 2018, in collaboration with [Rune](http://pastelrunes.tumblr.com) who created [this beautiful artwork](http://pastelrunes.tumblr.com/post/177453157812/title-arcana-author-aluxra-rating-t-tags) that inspired this story. Each chapter is named after a card in the major arcana, with the description of each card in the beginning of the chapter. Some card descriptions are more literal than others, usually to describe the events or characters that appear in the chapters, other descriptions relate to the actual meaning of the card and how they relate to the upcoming events.
> 
> I enjoyed being a part of the Reverse Big Bang, and writing a longer fic for the first time in a very long time, and I hope you all enjoy the story. 
> 
> xXx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XIX. The Sun.
> 
> An inherently good influence, finding the Sun is a positive development. It is suggestive of personal gain, and that personal goals and joy are within reach, if you are willing to invest the effort to actualize them.

 

Jesse shifted against the dark metal bars of the cell, half-heartedly trying to relieve the pressure from the old, bent nail digging into his hip. Soft scuffles across the stone floor alerted him to the rats that shared the cell with him, but he paid them no attention, unless they got too close to the depleting water levels in the chipped glass basin nearby. An empty plate had lain next to it for the past few days – not uncommon that Faust, or one of his experiments, forgot that he existed until he was needed, and his supplies would be replenished when they brought him back from the laboratory.

 

He swallowed thickly, repressing a shudder as bile rose up his throat. Shifting on his side again, the nail persistent against his hipbone, he breathed the musty, stagnant air, coughing around the itch in his throat. Running his tongue over his cracked, chapped lips did nothing to soothe them, his mouth as parched as the barren room around him. He looked to the basin of water, temptation to soothe the dry ache in his throat warring with the cautious reasoning that he needed to ration it. There was no fixed schedule as to when he was taken from the cell. Sometimes it would be days, other times it would border on weeks. The only saving grace in those times was the rainfall that trickled in through the high window above the cell’s barred ceiling.

 

His hip flared in pain again, forcing a groan from his lips as he dropped onto his stomach, lying flat out on the ground. He weakly stretched his wings out across the length of the cell – the tips of the feathers hitting the bars on either side far too soon and leaving them cramped. He folded them against his back, ruffling the pale, thinning feathers, ragged gaps and tattered holes appearing after so long in captivity. He couldn’t recall how many days he had been stuck in the cage, he had stopped counting after a hundred and something, the missing days of unconsciousness too numerus for the number to matter.

 

He huffed again, folding his arms under his head and rested his forehead on his crossed forearms, the chains connected to the shackles around his wrists rattling and clunking together as they shifted across the stone floor. Paired with the ones around his ankles, and the heavy collar weighing on his neck, it wasn’t as if he could ever get far even without the four walls of the rusted cell imprisoning him. The heavy iron sapped his strength not just with their weight but with the sigils carved into the edges, leaving him weak enough that they could overpower him to steal the feathers from his wings.

 

Closing his eyes, he considered a nap, when the darkness behind his eyelids shifted to a brighter hue, and he raised his head and turned his eyes to the window in the wall high above his head. Beyond the small square cut out of the stone, the sky was painted a solid, bright blue, the grey clouds that had hung over the castle for the last few days finally clearing and offering the room a small reprieve from the gloom that shrouded it. A pale, golden beam of light illuminated a small square of floor just beyond the door of his cell, turning the dull, dusty, cracked stone a warm cornflower yellow.

 

He pushed himself up on his elbows and stared at it, watching the dust particles dance lazily in the air. His eyes watered, fearing that if he blinked the bright spot on the dusty floor would disappear, the feeling of the sun on his face was a distant memory, closer to a half-remembered dream. Just like the feeling of the wind through his wings, the chill against his skin of heights unattainable to mortals.

 

He yearned, heart sore for those days.

 

They already seemed like another life, belonging to someone else. Reluctant to give up all hope of ever seeing that life again, he knew that his chances to see that hope through dwindled with every day in the chains, with every feather stolen from his wings. His arms moved without thought, trembling as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, the chains scraping against the stone as he crawled over to the bars of the cell. The bars were close set, but after a hundred and something days, he could push one arm through the gap up to the shoulder, crushing himself against the bars, reaching for the small patch of sunlight.

 

His fingers skimmed the edge of the beam of light, warmth blooming in his fingertips. The aches and pains of his body were forgotten as he soaked in the warmth of the sun he could still get in this dark, gloomy dungeon. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the strain on his already weakened body, and he collapsed against the bars with a grunt, his arm dropping to the ground with a thump. Exhaling a sigh, he pulled his arm back and rolled round till his back was pressed against the bars, returning to his original position.

 

The damn nail was still there.

 

He groaned, wanting to sleep, when a scream echoing through the halls above his head drew his attention, and he turned his half-lidded eyes to the ceiling. The rats skittered nervously across the floor, as if they knew what fate was to befall the poor unlucky soul that had drawn Faust’s attention. Jesse had a good idea from experience; he continued to stare up at the ceiling, unmoving, listening to the wails and shrieks that filtered through the thick stone as they moved further into the castle.

 

“Best save some of those for later,” he mused aloud. “You’re gonna need ‘em.”


	2. XVI The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XVI. The Tower
> 
> Dark and foreboding, the Tower is the embodiment of disruption and conflict. Not just change, but the abrupt and jarring movement caused by the unforeseen and traumatic events which are part of life.

Hanzo cautiously made his way around the parameter of the crumbling stone monolith standing before him, the needle-like spires spearing the pale blue blanket of the sky. Wisps of cloud veered away from the slanting rooftops and half-toppled towers spiralling around each other, as if they didn’t want to get any closer to the evil that resided in the castle. The grounds that bordered the walls were as dead as the castle, the grass shrivelled and coarse. Walls piled high over each other like a line of tipped dominoes. The moat had long since dried up – good thing too, since the bridge had collapsed and lay on the bottom of the deep gulley in the earth, among the bones of whatever had inhabited the waters.

 

None of this would usually cause Hanzo trouble, given his ability to fly. His trouble lay in finding a way into the looming, scorched-brick castle, and a direct route to Genji through the haphazard building blocks stacked atop each other that seemed to form the castle. The inside could easily be a labyrinth, and Hanzo did not want to waste time blindly navigating dead end hallways and collapsed chambers in search of his brother.

 

His foolish younger brother, whom he had told – again, and again, and again, and _again_ – not to stray beyond the borders of their home without Hanzo with him. He was still too young, his powers yet to fully manifest to help him defend himself. Even his scales had not developed their magical properties, which was surely the reason for his abduction. Although, Hanzo dreaded to think what they would do to Genji if and when that fact was discovered; they did not seem like men who would or could wait a few hundred more years for Genji to fully mature and use his scales for whatever purposes for which they needed him.

 

Hanzo curled his hands into fists at his side and cleared his mind of such troubling thoughts. He had not been far behind his brother’s captors, and worrying would not aid him in getting into the castle and saving Genji any faster. He shifted his bow and quiver against his back, and took a running leap over the dried moat, gliding over the deep hollow with an easy grace onto the other side and into the shadow of the broken, dark castle.

 

Nothing stirred, the air as still as it had been on his approach. He had seen no signs of life as he approached the castle, nor evidence that anyone resided here. Still, he glanced over his shoulder, scanning the barren stretch of land for signs of life, a creeping sensation on the back of his neck that he was being watched. He huffed under his breath, shaking the feeling as he made his way around the edge of the castle, studying the walls. He could see no doors, or any entrances easily accessible from the ground. There were a number of windows scattered up the walls, dark and empty, revealing nothing of what lay inside.

 

A cracked imperial staircase led up to a short veranda, with pillars at the four corners that had once held up a roof, and now lay exposed to the sun. He took the steps two-or-three at a time, racing up to the first landing. Still, there was no evidence of a direct way in as he came level. Despite the grand appearance of what should be the main entranceway, there was no sign of a door, just a flat stretch of wall with dead ivy creepers clinging to the crumbling brick. He growled, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he craned his neck to look up at the walls above him. Several stories up on his right were the remains of a balcony. He narrowed his eyes, studying it. It seemed that would be his best way in, and he would simply have to take the risk that it would not lead him further from Genji.

 

“Are you gonna go in or what?”

 

Hanzo had his bow in hand and an arrow notched before he had completed the turn, levelling the glowing blue arrow in the direction of the voice. In the shadow of the corner pillar sat a pile of junk; scrap metal and twisted wires sprang from plates of brass and copper stacked haphazardly on top of each other. Springs and rods protruded from the main body of the pile, and Hanzo took a moment to realise that it _was_ a body slumped next to the pillar, his eyes adjusting to the distorted shape of the odd rag-and-metal shell that hid the speaker from view. Their head was hidden by an old burlap bag strung tight around the neck with thick rope, the eye and mouth holes cut out and then hastily sewn back again as if the tailor had realised their mistake and had sought to undo it.

 

“What in the name of the Gods --?” he muttered.

 

“I mean, ya can stay out here if ya want,” the junk-man continued. “Be nice t’ have some company round ‘ere for once.”

 

“Who are you?” Hanzo demanded, overcoming his shock. A heavy sense of dread replaced it. If the guard raised the alarm and alerted the keeper of the castle to his presence, there would be no telling the danger that would befall Genji. He tightened his grip on his bow, drawing the arrow back further, the tension ready to snap.

 

“Me?” the junk man replied, bobbing his head in shock, oblivious to the arrow aimed at his chest. “Well now, it’s been a long time since someone asked ‘bout li’l ol’ me. They call me Junkrat. Well. Actually, they call me “Junkpile” and “Junkman” and “Rat”, mostly. “Ratbag”, too. “Useless hunk o’ junk”, is another one. “Experiment number 7” and “Unlucky 7” are others, but I ain’t particularly fond o’ those ones. I like Junkrat, ‘cause it combines “Junk” and “Rat”, see? That, y’see, is a _port-man-too_. See, I got plenty o’ brains, not that anyb’dy round here appreciates it. It’s just “watch the door, you idiot” “keep your eyes open, ya hunk o’ junk, why do I bother keeping you around?”. Honestly, no appreciation from nobody round here, I tell ya, it’s all me, me, me, me, w’ him. Y’know, one o’ these days I’d like ta –”

 

“My apologies for interrupting,” Hanzo snapped. “But I do not have time for this.”

 

“Well, _excuse_ me, yer majesty. Yer the one asked in the first place. Now all of a sudden, yer too good to speak to poor ol’ Junkrat, sitting out here on his lonesome for months and months and months w’out a friend in the world t’ care for him after ol’ Fausty kicked him out w’ the rest o’ the trash.” He sniffled, his muffled voice cracking under the hood he wore. “An’ ya know, it real hard goin’ being a gate watcher, when nob’dy but the big boss comes ‘round, an’ all they got to say is mean things ta poor ol’ Junkrat, he’s just a pile o’ trash, what does it matter that he’s sitting here just tryna do his job for no thanks –

 

“Alright, alright,” Hanzo said, relaxing his bow and holding up his hand placatingly. “Please, do not cry. I apologise, I did not mean to upset you.”

 

“Cheers, mate,” Junkrat replied, brightening instantly. “Coulda just said that in the first place.”

 

Hanzo gritted his teeth, glaring at Junkrat. He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He had wasted time standing here when guards could be on the move to intercept him before he even set foot in the castle, or sending word of his presence to Faust, who seemed to be the owner of this castle. Yet, the grounds were just as silent as they had been on his approach, the pair of them the only two living things that he could see, with no indication there would be friend or foe joining them.

 

“Why are you not raising the alarm?” Hanzo finally asked. “You said you were put to watch for intruders.”

 

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Junkrat said with a nod. “I was thrown out here to _watch_ the door. Not raise any bloody alarm. I’m a _watch-_ er, not an _alarm-_ er. You tryna make my job more difficult, mate?”

 

“No. No I am not.” Hanzo clicked his tongue against his teeth, settling his bow back over his shoulder when it was clear Junkrat posed no threat to him. The knowledge did not brighten his mood, and he turned to his original task of seeking the door Junkrat apparently guarded into the castle, finding no evidence that such a thing existed. The wall continued to remain as solid as he first saw it.

 

“What’s with the horns?”

 

Hanzo blinked, looking at Junkrat. “What?”

 

“The horns. On yer head.” Junkrat stuck his hands against either side of his head and wiggled his index fingers. “Didya not notice them? Guess Faust’s experiments can go all sorts o’ ways.”

 

“I’m not an experiment. I was born with them.”

 

“Oof. Yer poor ma.” Junkrat grimaced, shaking his head. “You always had the tail too?”

 

“Yes.” Hanzo exhaled a gruff breath through his nose, his scowl returning. His tail flicked in irritation, the barbs lining the spine rippling with his foul mood.

 

“So, ya gonna go in, or not?” Junkrat asked. He cocked his head to one side, staring at Hanzo expectantly.

 

Hanzo looked between Junkrat and the stretch of wall behind him, gesturing at it. “Go in _where?_ There is no door.”

 

“Sure there is, right in front o’ya.”

 

Hanzo stared at the dull bricks, dead ivy vines scaling the walls and around the pillars. He still could not see the elusive entrance to the castle.

 

“You mock me,” he said. “There is no doorway there.”

 

“I tell you, it’s right in front of you. Just hop over and you’ll be in the main hallway,” Junkrat explained, nodding to the wall in front of them.

 

Hanzo raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “So, tell me, where would I go from there?”

                       

“Well, Faust always goes left, so I figure that would be the way you’re looking for.”

 

“And after that?”

 

“Hell, if I know,” he replied, shrugging. “Don’t get around too much, you know?”

 

He raised his arms and waved them around wildly, motioning trying to pull himself up out of the heap and away from the pillar that he was fused to, before he dropped them back to his sides.

 

Hanzo frowned, looking between the wall and Junkrat. He had already wasted enough time with Junkrat and had offered him no reason to tell the truth. However, if he spoke the truth, Hanzo could be one step closer to finding Genji and rescuing him before Faust harmed him, and Junkrat would have aided him when he needed it. His honour demanded him to offer fair favour in return, though what Junkrat, strange creature that he was, could possibly ask of him was beyond him.

 

An idea struck him.

 

He reached under the neckline of his _Gi_ and ran his hand over his shoulder. The dark blue scales rippled beneath his touch, and he traced the tip of a claw along the edge of a single scale, coaxing it away from the layer of soft, unprotected skin beneath it. A sharp sting flared in his shoulder as he pulled the scale off, extracting it from under his collar and holding it up between two fingers for Junkrat to see.

 

“If you speak true, and there is a hidden doorway,” he said. “I will grant you the blessing of a dragon scale for your aid, so that which you most desire will be yours.”

 

“Anything? Anything I so do truly desire?”

 

Hanzo nodded.

 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Hand it over!”

 

Hanzo withdrew the scale, although there was no risk of Junkrat ever reaching it from where he sat. “First, I have to see if you’re telling the truth.”

 

“I told you it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump between those two patches of ivy,” Junkrat said. “Go on, see for yourself.”

 

“I’m not running into the wall for your amusement,” Hanzo replied.

 

“Shoulda thought o’ that, I’d’ve told ya to go two steps to yer right,” Junkrat muttered.

 

Hanzo shook his head, and raised his bow, shooting an arrow between the pillars of ivy. For the split moment the arrow was still singing through the air, he was sure that it would be revealed as a trick, but the arrow continued past the level of the wall until it sank into the softened mortar of the wall behind the front wall.

 

“Told ya!” Junkrat crowed behind him.

 

Hanzo smiled despite himself and lowered his bow. He turned back to face Junkrat and flicked the scale to him with his thumb, like a coin.

 

It spun through the air in a high arc before Junkrat reached up and caught it from the air. Dropping his hand into his lap, he uncurled his half-gloved fingers to reveal the opalescent dragon scale sitting on his palm, rippling like water as the sun struck it.

 

“Well now, ain’t that pretty?” he said, holding it up to the light and watching the sunlight dance across the smooth blue surface. He curled his fingers around it protectively, finally looking at Hanzo. “Well, what you waiting for? Hop along.”

 

“My thanks to you, Junkrat,” Hanzo said with a bow.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Junkrat said, waving him away as he examined the scale on his hand, poking at it with a chewed down, dirty nail. “Off you go, then, times a-ticking.”

 

Hanzo nodded, and strode forward through the hidden doorway, using the arrow stuck in the wall as an indicator. He kept his gait steady and confident, despite the slight trepidation in the back of his mind warning him of deception and the imminent consequences of trusting someone from the very castle that held his brother captive. He raised one hand in front of him as he approached the stonework, bracing himself to feel the crumbling, dry brick under his palm. He drew level with the wall—

 

— and passed through.

 

A relieved, triumphant smile pulled at the corner of his lips. He turned to face the wide entranceway and studied the “door” cleverly disguised as an unbroken wall, the trails of ivy masking the edges of the thick stone and mortar. On either side of him, the hallway stretched out with an eerie symmetry that offered no indication of the correct way to take; luckily, Junkrat had provided that for him too.

 

He still sat amidst the junk piled high against the pillar, leaning forward and reaching his hand towards Hanzo.

 

“Uh, mate –!” he began, but Hanzo’s time had already ran shorter than he wanted in the search for Genji, and he offered Junkrat a brief salute.

 

“My thanks, Junkrat,” he said. “Do not squander the dragon’s gift.”

 

He turned away, reaching out to pull the arrow from the wall when a stone beneath his foot shifted, sinking into the floor. He stumbled, falling to his hands and knees, watching with growing horror as cracks spiderwebbed out from under him. The floor rumbled, like oncoming thunder, shooting vibrations up his arms. More cracks appeared with sharp, heavy snaps, the stone sinking deeper and deeper into a concave in the floor, with Hanzo in the centre.

 

Hanzo muttered a fiery curse, pushing himself up onto his feet. The floor slipped again, his foot sliding into the fracture, trapped up to the ankle. He grunted at the pressure around his joint, shifting his weight and trying to pull it free. It proved a mistake, the floor giving out under him, pulling him down with a scream into the darkness below.

 

“I told you, you had to jump!” Junkrat yelled as Hanzo’s screams faded into the depths of the castle’s underground. He snorted, shaking his head, and opened his hand to look at the scale. He made a noise at the back of his throat as he flipped the scale in the air, watching entranced as it spun above his head, reflecting discs of light against the stone. It dropped after a split second longer than it should have been able to stay in the air and fell neatly onto his palm again.

 

Its surface rippled with light and began to glow.


	3. 0 The Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 0\. The Fool
> 
> The Fool is either numbered 0 or XXII, the lowest or the highest ranking in the major arcana. The Fool is a very powerful card in the Tarot deck, usually representing a new beginning -- and, consequently, an end to something in your old life.

Hanzo fell, the castle swallowing him down deeper and deeper into its belly. The broken floor thundered down the wide tunnel around him, smashing off walls and larger fragments as they fell. He manipulated the air around him, his hands glowing faintly blue in the absolute blackness, slowing his descent and avoiding the blocks tumbling down with him. He gritted his teeth, pushing against gravity, the force of his magic blasting back at him from his outstretched hand.

 

Time warped, the darkness deceiving him with the feeling of a never-ending fall. He could not feel the walls, could not reach out and grab a handhold to pull himself away from the avalanche. He could only fall, awaiting the inevitable slam of his body against the floor. He braced himself for the impact that never came; instead, up ahead, a small dot of white appeared and grew in size. Squinting against the change in light, he recognised it as an exit to the fall, and huffed, half relieved, half determined, and renewed to fight through whatever was at the end to get to Genji.

 

Then he noticed the curved bars breaking the solid disc of light, fixed against the walls of the exit.

 

A trap.

 

To either let him be crushed by the stone or be snatched up and taken somewhere deep in the dungeons to await this Faust to come and study his new acquirement.

 

He had no intention of allowing either to happen.

 

With a snarl, he released the control he wielded over the limited air in the shaft, and drew his bow from his back, notching an arrow against the string. Muttering a short incantation, the blue dragon on his arm illuminated the gloom as it began to glow, rippling along his arm. Magic swirled across Hanzo’s skin, burning through his muscles and boiling the blood in his veins, singing to him in a language beyond the spoken word. It curled down the length of his outstretched arm, seeping into the long, narrow shaft of the arrow as he pulled it back. The head burned white hot, humming with energy, and he released it with a sharp _shwip._

 

It raced through the air ahead of Hanzo, crossing the shortening distance between him and the cage before him, hissing and spitting like it was alive, trailing a comet-tail of lightning sparks behind it. It struck the bars with a high-pitched song of metal against metal, before the bars were enveloped in a burning bright white light and the sound of thunder erupted through the tunnel, rippling through the air. The cage fractured with a colossal _boom_ , taking half the stone sealing it in place with it, and Hanzo was flung into open, empty air.

 

Sunlight blinded him, the crackling and snapping of burning metal assaulting his ears as he dropped again, crashing faster than expected against a solid, dirty stone floor, his bow skittering from his hand. He grunted in pain, rolling across the floor to avoid the falling debris crashing around him, his shoulder and arm flaring in pain. His clawed feet scraped against the ground as he scrambled up into a half crouch, leaping out of the way as the last of the hall floor hit the ground, splintering the stone with one final, heavy crack and a flurry of dust and dirt. He glared at the floor beneath him, as if daring it to drop him into another deep abyss.

 

It did nothing, and he grunted, dusting off his clothes and pulling himself up in order to determine where the infernal castle had deposited him.

 

*

 

Jesse startled awake at the sudden noise and sprung to his feet, retreating to the back of the cage. His eyes jumped around the room, searching for Faust or one of his servants who had surely come to drag him back to the laboratory, when his gaze fell on the dark-haired man pulling himself to his feet beyond the reach of his cage. The remnants of the trap from the bottom of the Long Fall lay scattered across the stone, warped and glowing cherry red with heat.

 

He turned his attention back to the stranger, his brow furrowed in confusion and wary curiosity. Pushing himself away from the wall, he took small, hesitant steps towards the bars of the cage, curling his hands around them to hold him upright. The stranger hadn’t noticed him, and Jesse wasn’t sure if he wanted him to take notice.

 

He wasn’t typical of Faust’s servants; dressed in a kind of fine, loose blue jacket and matching pants tied snugly around his waist with a thick scarf, and at the knee of each leg, revealing scaled legs ending in four-clawed feet. A quiver and an elegant bow were slung over his shoulder, and one arm was exposed, displaying a beautiful, intricate illustration of a coiling serpent on his skin.  Horns sprung from his head, similar to the ones on the inked serpent on his arm, his black hair parting around them and tied back in a simple ponytail. Scales in varying shades of blue decorated the backs of his hands and his temples, fading into the soft silvery grey of his hair. He’d be the kind of prime picking for Faust’s experiments if he got close enough.

 

Jesse eyed the ruins of the trap. His mind raced, forming and discarding thoughts before they had fully formed, considering the possibilities and the dangers he faced with this new, powerful stranger standing in front of him. He stayed silent, unsure what to say or if to say anything at all; fate seemed to decide it didn’t matter, as the stranger’s gaze found Jesse.

 

“Afternoon,” Jesse greeted with a tip of an imaginary hat. He watched the man as he recovered from his visible shock, a cold frown replacing his wide-eyed gawking.

 

“You, uh, seem t’be lost,” Jesse continued as the silence stretched on, neither of them averting their eyes. The stranger didn’t even seem to blink or breathe. “Now, I don’t mean to concern ya, but this really ain’t the place to be getting lost in.”

 

“I appreciate the concern, but it is unnecessary,” the stranger said, breaking his silence. He seemed to deem Jesse as nonthreatening, turning away and scanning the room, his eyes landing on the heavy wooden door opposite the cage. “I have had enough help from the inhabitants of this castle for one day.”

 

“I think perhaps you could do with the help of one more,” Jesse offered, folding his arms on the crossbar of the cage door, leaning his weight on it. His legs were already starting to ache from holding up his own bodyweight, but he locked his knees and tried to maintain the easy nonchalance he didn’t feel in the presence of this newcomer.

 

The stranger didn’t even glance over his shoulder, striding towards the door. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

 

“Cause you ain’t gonna find the way outta here any time soon.”

 

The stranger paused, looking at Jesse. “Perhaps I don’t want out, but further in.”

 

“Either way, it ain’t gonna happen,” Jesse replied. He propped his elbow on the bar, resting his chin on his hand as he watched the stranger.  

 

“You underestimate my will.”

 

“I ain’t so much underestimating your will, but maybe you’re overestimating your time,” Jesse guessed. The horned man whirled around, taking long, calculating steps towards the cage. He stopped just beyond arms reach of the door: from this distance, the narrow height difference between them was noticeable - Jesse had a few inches advantage on him, although in a battle of physical strength, Jesse had no chance in his current state.

 

“What do you know of my time?” he demanded, pulling his lips back to reveal two sets of sharp canines at the corners of his mouth. His clawed fingers flexed, subtly rolling his shoulder to shift the bow and quiver closer to his hand from quick retrieval. Jesse watched him carefully, holding back a swallow as he considered his next words.

 

“Hey, easy there. I’m just sayin’: only reason you’d want to get anywhere close to Faust is if you were looking for something, and if Faust has that something, you want it back real quick.”

 

“And how would _your_ help allow me to do that?”

 

“I can lead you to him.” His voice dripped with confidence, a smile curling the corner of his lip for emphasis as the offer escaped him before he had fully formed a plan. In truth, he had very little knowledge of the castle beyond the cage and the laboratory, but that wouldn’t matter if the stranger could get him out of the chains and the cage. He tried not to raise his eyes to the narrow windows high above them. He couldn’t tell how small they were, but he might be able to slip through and take to the sky long enough to get away. The mere thought of open sky and the rush of wind against his face sent his heart hammering against his chest so hard he was sure the stranger could hear it, but he kept his gaze neutral, like he didn’t care if his offer was accepted.

 

The stranger scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Yes, I have every faith you would be able to accurately describe the way to this man, Faust, with all your knowledge gained from inside that tiny cage.”

 

“Hey! I ain’t always this cage, and if what you’re looking for is where I think it is, I have plenty knowledge of _that_ place.” That was true, and it brought a sour taste to Jesse’s mouth, his fingers twitching against the metal.

 

That gave him pause, considering Jesse with dark eyes. He cocked his head to one side, his gaze assessing Jesse from head to toe and back again. Jesse knew what he saw, and tried not to visibly react, even as he wished he had more than a ratty, dirty, off-white kilt to cover himself.

 

“What is your name?” he finally asked.

 

“Jesse.” Jesse shifted, trying to contain his excitement. Freedom was so close. “And yours, stranger?”

 

“Hanzo. I’m one of the Dracona from the East.” Hanzo introduced himself with a formal bow, raising his left arm and tapping the dragon’s head on his wrist.

 

Jesse stared at him blankly. “Uh huh.”

 

“You have heard of the Dracona, haven’t you?” Hanzo asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. Jesse continued to stare at him, and Hanzo sighed, shaking his head. “Never mind. I suppose you wish for something in return for your aid?”

 

“Well, now that you mention it,” Jesse drawled, raising his arms from the cage door and shaking them until the chains rattled. “The collar too. Don’t quite think it quite suits me.”

 

“That would be a given, considering I need you free to guide me,” Hanzo said, raising his eyebrows.

 

“Then I guess I’ll have to get an IOU from you,” Jesse replied with an easy smile.

 

Hanzo scowled. “There will be no “IOU”.”

 

“Aww, c’mon,” Jesse teased. “You can’t make one li’l exception for me? I promise, I’ll think o’ something good.”

 

Hanzo stared at him deadpan, before he pointedly spun on his heel towards the door. “I’ll find my own way.”

 

“Hey! Woah, woah, woah! Okay, okay!” Jesse stammered, reaching after him. Hanzo turned back, raising an eyebrow. Jesse sighed and dropped his arm down, pressing his forehead against the bars of the cage.

 

“Look, I just want outta these chains and outta this cage,” he said. He didn’t mention _getting out of the castle_ , but that wouldn’t matter soon. “You don’t owe me anything after that.”

Hanzo studied him for a moment, searching his face. Jesse kept his expression neutral, refusing to avert his eyes. Hanzo seemed to come to a decision and relaxed, nodding. Jesse released the breath he held. “We have an agreement.”

 

“Great. Get me outta here, partner.” He rattled the cage for emphasis, and Hanzo rolled his eyes, approaching the door.

 

“I am not your partner,” Hanzo muttered as he studied the cage door. He glanced up at Jesse. “I don’t suppose you know how to open this, do you?”

 

“Uh… honestly, no,” he admitted. “Faust ain’t exactly the sharin’ type when it comes to small details like that.”

 

Hanzo nodded, straightening up and pushing his sleeve up his arm. For a moment, the dragon’s golden eyes on his wrist glowed, but Jesse blinked and it returned to normal. Then the whole thing began to glow, the scales lighting up in a domino effect up his arm. Blue fire rippled across his skin, breathed from the dragon’s mouth, enveloping his hands and coalescing in the palm of his hands.

 

Jesse took a step back, stumbling in the chains and falling to the floor with a grunt. Wincing, he pulled himself up, his eyes drawn to Hanzo in awe as fire crackled on his fingertips without burning him. Hanzo curled his fingers around the metal bars Jesse had taken hold of seconds ago, the length of them glowing white hot in an instant, and, with barely any effort, he pushed them together and snapped the row away from the rest of them, opening a decent sized hole for Jesse to slip through.

 

Hanzo dropped the metal at his feet with a smug smile, the fire dying on his hands and the dragon on his arm returning to a flat illustration.

 

Jesse stared at the melting scraps that were left of the cage door in a daze, leaning forward and stretching his arm out through the open hole, skimming his fingers through the air. It had been so easy for Hanzo to do, like it was nothing to him. He looked up at Hanzo through the opening, and a strange look on his face replaced the smugness. Extending his hand, he offered it silently to Jesse, his eyes never leaving his face.

 

Jesse swallowed, curling his fingers around Hanzo’s and allowed himself to be guided out of the cage, half crawling, half stumbling into open space for the first time of his own choice in months. He straightened to his full height, his eyes travelling around the bare room till they landed on a patch of sunlight streaming in through the windows high above.

 

A small, cracked sound escaped his throat, his hand dropping from Hanzo’s as he stepped into the light, tilting his face up, basking in it. He rolled his shoulders, the bones clicking as he stretched his wings to their limit, the feathers ruffling as they realigned after months of being cramped in the cage. He didn’t notice the look of horror that crossed Hanzo’s face before it was schooled away, the tragedy of Faust’s experiments scattered across his thinning wings.

 

He wondered if he could still fly.

 

He eyed the windows above him, each one a potential exit to the outside. He wouldn’t have to wait long before finding out.

 

“Alright partner,” he said, half choking on his words as his chest swelled with emotion. He cleared his throat, trying to stay focused: ditch the chains, ditch the dragon, ditch the castle, never look back. He turned to Hanzo, holding up his bound wrists. “Now, how about these antiques?”

 

Hanzo nodded, approaching Jesse and studying the rings of metal. It turned out they were easy to remove, coming off with a sharp snap of metal and discarded to the ground. Jesse rubbed his wrists, moaning in relief at the loss of weight and biting metal against his skin. The metal cuffs around his ankles followed suit, and he stood up on his toes, flexing his feet one after the other in delight, restraining himself from actually dancing.

 

Then there was the collar.

 

Jesse could barely stay still as Hanzo reached for it, waiting for the release. There was no doubt in his mind he could fly without it holding him down, without the chains and the manacles restricting him. Even with his damaged wings, there’d be no stopping him getting out of here once he was free of Faust’s damn shackles. He just needed –

 

A snarl of pain snapped through his thoughts, and he jerked away from Hanzo. Hanzo yanked his hand back, clutching his wrist in pain, glaring at the collar.

 

“What’s wrong?” Jesse demanded. “What happened?”

 

“The collar has extra protection on it,” Hanzo growled through gritted teeth, shaking his hand to relieve some of the pain. “It will not come away so easily.”

 

“Can’t you use your fire powers to melt it? Like you did the cage?” Jesse asked. Hanzo paused, pursing his lips in consideration. He leaned forward, looking closely at the collar without actually touching it. The silence stretched on while Jesse’s heartbeat roared in his ears, his lungs frozen in his chest as he dared not breathe for fear of Hanzo’s answer.

 

Hanzo shook his head, and Jesse’s heart dropped to his stomach.

 

“I am sorry, Jesse. Dragonfire would not aid you any more than my strength would.”

 

“You mean you can’t get it off?” Jesse said, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached up and touched the collar, the surface cool and smooth beneath his rough, calloused fingertips. It felt all the tighter around his throat. Hanzo shook his head, folding his arms across his chest as he pondered the collar.

  
“Faust was very thorough in his magic to keep this sealed,” he guessed. “I imagine, the only way to remove it would be with him.”

 

“What?” Jesse head reeled, nausea rolling his stomach. His fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving for breath at the thought of going anywhere near Faust. His gaze flicked to the windows above him: so deceptively close, promising him freedom, beckoning him towards them. They might as well have been a hundred miles away. He swallowed thickly, lowering his gaze to Hanzo. “There’s… there’s no other way?”

 

Hanzo studied him closely with narrowed eyes, and Jesse’s heart stuttered, fearing Hanzo knew his plan. He unfolded his arms, reaching up under the collar of his jacket with the tattooed arm. He paused, a deep frown furrowing his brow, before he scratched his shoulder, relieving himself of an itch, and folded his arms again.

 

“My apologies, Jesse,” he said. “I can only do so much.”

 

“Right. Of course,” Jesse said, deflating. He dropped his hand away from the collar, blinking away tears that prickled at the corner of his eyes. “Thanks for trying, anyway.”

 

“You needn’t worry,” Hanzo replied after a beat. “Our path ultimately leads us to Faust anyway. We will save my brother and find a key to unlock this collar.”

 

“Right, yeah,” Jesse said, dropping his gaze to the floor and turning away, unable to look at Hanzo. He should’ve figured it wouldn’t have been that easy. He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and clearing his throat, then doing it again because he didn’t know what else to do.

 

“Jesse?” Hanzo said behind him. “The way to Faust?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I said I would… yeah, so, we’re doing that.” Jesse nodded, even though he wanted to scream, and beckoned Hanzo over to the door.

 

Together, they heaved it open; Faust never bothered locking it since Jesse was the only inhabitant of the room and he was always in his cage. It creaked and groaned with disuse, resisting the whole way to the wall where they finally left it, huffing for breath and a little sweaty. Adjusting to the dimmer light of the hallway outside, they both peeked out around the door jamb, each looking opposite directions, and then the other way. A growing sense of despair rose in Jesse as both appeared exactly the same, devoid of clues of the way to their destination.

 

Jesse definitely wanted to scream.

 

“So, which way now?” Hanzo asked. Jesse considered his options as he studied the two identical paths, Hanzo’s gaze heavy on the back of his neck, the hairs rising on his skin.

 

Finally, he turned left, beckoning Hanzo to follow him.


	4. XII The Hanged Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XII. The Hanged Man
> 
> The hanged man represents ultimate surrender, sacrifice, or being suspended in time.

The hallway and the silence stretched on, their footsteps muffled against the dusty stone floor as they walked through the dim light of the long corridor. Hyper aware of Hanzo’s presence beside him, Jesse watched him out the corner of his eye, and tried to think of something to say to break the uncomfortable silence between them. He reached up to touch the collar again, running his finger over the tiny symbols etched into the metal.

 

“Stop that,” Hanzo said. Jesse jumped at the sudden sound of his voice.

 

“What?” he asked, dropping his hand away from the collar and folding his arms across his chest defensively.

 

“Touching the collar is not going to take it off any faster,” Hanzo replied, picking his way over a pile of broken down wall, barely glancing at the old, disused room behind it. “We will find a way to remove it once we find Faust.”

 

“Easy for you to say,” Jesse muttered, scratching the back of his head. He ruffled his wings, stretching the cramp building in one of the joint.  He could feel Hanzo’s eyes on them, making no attempt to hide his staring. Jesse glanced over his shoulder at him, smiling and raising a brow. “See something you like?”

 

Hanzo rolled his eyes in reply, and Jesse chuckled. “Someone liking these is what got me in this mess t’ start with, I don’t need to go jumping from the skillet to the fire.”

 

“The feathers of a mature Avarius are known to have particularly rare properties when used in alchemy and the like,” Hanzo said, studying the wings. “Although getting hold of a mature Avarius is rarer, still.”

 

“Did’ya just call me old?” Jesse asked, dodging the poorly concealed question.

 

“Will you stop joking?” Hanzo sighed. “For someone who has spent some time trapped in a cell, you are frustratingly flippant.”

 

“Gotta look on the bright side,” Jesse replied easily, flashing a grin. “All this flippancy jus’ hides my tortured soul.”

 

“Hn.”

 

They fell into silence again as the corridor curved, but they had yet to find a set of stairs that would take them out the dungeon into the higher floors. Jesse began to feel antsy, sensing the same restlessness in Hanzo beside him. He considered suggesting blasting a hole in the ceiling and getting through that way, but that risked revealing he knew nothing of the castle and where he was leading them, and Hanzo’s wrath, which Jesse doubted he would be able to combat given the remains of the trap and the cell that held him. He worried his lip, his eyes searching for a turn, or a door, or an opening of some kind, willing one to appear as they continued their path.

 

“This hallway has been stretching on for some time,” Hanzo said after a minute, and Jesse flinched, swallowing the lump in his throat.

 

“Uh, yeah, he uses long straight corridors to confuse people. Makes you nervous that you’ve gone too far and wanna double back, so you never get anywhere.”

 

“I suppose…” Hanzo replied, unconvinced.

 

“Come on, we just gotta keep going,” Jesse said, nodding towards the path in front of them. “Doubt’s just gonna hinder us.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Jesse swallowed, Hanzo’s eyes burning into the back of his head. He kept his eyes on the path ahead, his hands clenched by his sides to stop fidgeting. The hallway was silent except for their muffled footsteps against the stone, or a quiet cough when the air became too dusty. His heart beat rapidly against his ribs, sweat prickling his temples. He swung through his options in rapid order, coming up short quickly with so few possibilities available.

 

He cleared his throat, returning to the original option of going straight up, glancing over his shoulder to offer it to Hanzo when a sibilant shriek echoed down the corridor, startling them both. Jesse dropped into a crouch, lunging behind Hanzo as he darted forward, bow drawn and arrow notched, poised to attack.

 

Nothing came for them from the dim light of the corridor ahead, the path clear. Hanzo lowered his bow a fraction, looking over his shoulder at Jesse cowering behind his legs.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

 

Jesse uncurled himself, briefly glancing around before looking up at Hanzo with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, but I think my pride got seriously bruised.”

 

Hanzo half-smiled at him. “As long as the rest of you is intact, I am sure you’ll heal.”

 

“Well, that sounds mighty promising,” Jesse replied, startling when another screech filled the corridor, drawing their attention back to the direction it came. “But I don’t think I’ll hedge my bets on how long the rest o’ me is gonna stay intact.”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

 

“Cheers, partner, mighty kind o’ you t’say.”

 

“Not your partner,” Hanzo reminded him, his tail twitching behind him. He stepped forward, creeping along the corridor. “Come, we must be close.”

 

Jesse doubted it, but said nothing as he followed Hanzo’s footsteps, sneaking along the corridor behind him. Up ahead, the corridor ended in a T-junction, a heavy, dark red wooden door with black hinges occupying a wide stretch of the wall in front of them. Beyond, they could hear the rattle of chains and the chattering of voices, interspersed with a wide range of growls, shrieks, screeches, and snarls.

 

“Is this it?” Hanzo asked, approaching the door. He scoped the corridor to the sides, seeking any enemies that may hide in the shadows. Jesse hurried after him, his eyes darting between the three long passages before they rested on the door. The dark wood stretched up the wall, the dark red wood reminiscent of a gaping maw ready to swallow them up, the black hinges and metal detail sharp teeth to chew them up. He bit his lip, studying it as Hanzo pressed himself against the wall beside it, nodding to door handle.

 

“Jesse, get the door,” he whispered. “I will enter first.”

 

“Hanzo… I don’t… I don’t think this is it,” Jesse said, the back of his neck prickling uncomfortably. Hanzo didn’t seem to hear him.

 

“Jesse, the door.”

 

“Han, I really think we should –”

 

“Jesse! Now!” Hanzo hissed.

 

Jesse winced, clenching his fists by his side. He stared up at the door, his heart leaping into his throat. Hanzo’s eyes were burning through him, his lips set into a hard scowl.

 

“I will not wait for you, Jesse!” he snapped. “I must save my brother!”

 

He dropped his bow to his side, grabbing the door handle in his free hand and pulling with all his strength. The old, rusted metal groaned and creaked in resistance, the wood scraping loudly against the stone floor as it inched open, Hanzo’s clawed feet scrabbling against the floor to gain purchase and heave the door open. Slowly, the dark room beyond came into view, swallowing all light that entered. The emptiness seemed to stare back at them as it was revealed, welcoming them to step into the vast black space beyond, pulling their feet across the stone floor, step by step coming closer to the threshold: they walked in unison, Hanzo’s presence solid and warm by his side as they stepped across the line between the hall and the room beyond —

 

 

 

—  The hallway and the silence stretched on, their footsteps muffled against the dusty stone floor as they walked through the dim light of the long corridor. Jesse’s presence was constant by his side, flitting in and out of Hanzo’s peripheral vision as they followed the hallway in an uneasy silence, neither willing to break it. Hanzo glanced at him in time to see him reach up and touch the collar for the dozenth time since they began their journey and huffed irritably.

 

“Stop that,” Hanzo said. Jesse jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, sparking guilt in Hanzo’s chest. Jesse had been used by the castle inhabitants for so long, it was no surprise that he jumped at the slightest hint of a harsh tone.

 

“What?” he asked, dropping his hand away from the collar and folding his arms across his chest defensively.

 

“Touching the collar is not going to take it off any faster,” Hanzo replied, picking his way over a pile of broken down wall, barely glancing at the old, disused room behind it. “We will find a way to remove it once we find Faust.”

 

The guilt swelled in his chest: Jesse remained in that collar for no other reason than because Hanzo had chosen not to offer him a dragon scale and allow him his heart’s desire. It would likely work, the Dragon’s gift some of the strongest magic known across the world and would have no challenge against the magical meddling of a cheap magician. Yet…

 

Hanzo stared at Jesse as he ruffled his wings, stretching and rolling them at the joint to loosen them. He had seen the way he had eyed the windows above their heads back in the dungeon he had been kept in: once free from the collar, there would have been no stopping him taking flight and running from the castle, regardless of whatever promise he had made to Hanzo. No, he would save Genji, then he would aid Jesse in his bid for freedom. Jesse glanced over his shoulder at him, smiling and raising a brow. “See something you like?”

 

Hanzo rolled his eyes in reply, and Jesse chuckled. “Someone liking these is what got me in this mess t’ start with, I don’t need to go jumping from the skillet to the fire.”

 

“The feathers of a mature Avarius are known to have particularly rare properties when used in alchemy and the like,” Hanzo said, studying the wings. “Although getting hold of a mature Avarius is rarer, still.”

 

“Did’ya just call me old?” Jesse asked. Hanzo rolled his eyes.

 

“Will you stop…?” Hanzo said, slowing his pace and frowning. An odd sensation came over him, a feeling of déjà vu washing over him. Jesse noticed, slowing down a few feet ahead of him, looking back at him with a curious expression.

 

“Hey, joking’s the only way to hide my tortured soul,” Jesse joked, smiling. It didn’t reach his eyes, straining at the corners.

 

“Do you feel that?” Hanzo asked, cocking his head to the side.

 

“Feel what?” Jesse asked.

 

“This hallway…” Hanzo began, trying to put his thoughts into words. “It seems familiar.”

 

“Uh, yeah, he uses long straight corridors to confuse people. Makes you nervous that you’ve gone too far and wanna double back, so you never get anywhere.”

 

“I suppose…” Hanzo replied, unconvinced. He looked over his shoulder, unsettled.

 

“Come on, we just gotta keep going,” Jesse said, waving Hanzo forward and nodding towards the path in front of them. “Doubt’s just gonna hinder us.”

 

Hanzo nodded, beginning to follow Jesse once more, though the feeling did not abate. The hallway was silent except for their muffled footsteps against the stone, or a quiet cough when the air became too dusty. Hanzo remained on edge, his heckles raised as he kept a lookout for anything amiss the further they went.

 

Jesse was particularly subdued, fidgeting his hands by his sides; he cleared his throat as if to speak, when a sibilant shriek echoed down the corridor, startling them both. Jesse dropped into a crouch, lunging behind Hanzo as he darted forward, bow drawn and arrow notched, poised to attack.

 

He exhaled a careful breath, his ears straining for any new sounds, his eyes rapidly scanning back and forth between the two stretches of corridor. Nothing came for them from the dim light of the corridor, the path clear either way. Hanzo lowered his bow a fraction, looking over his shoulder at Jesse cowering behind his legs.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

 

Jesse uncurled himself, briefly glancing around before looking up at Hanzo with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, but I think my pride got seriously bruised.”

 

“Do not worry about your pride,” Hanzo said. “Your life is more important to remain safe.”

 

“Well, that sounds mighty promising,” Jesse replied, startling when another screech filled the corridor, drawing their attention back to the direction it came. “But I don’t think “safe” is a guarantee I have.”

 

“Don’t worry, I will protect you,” Hanzo promised.

 

“Cheers, partner, mighty kind o’ya t’say.”

 

“Not your… never mind,” Hanzo sighed. He returned his bow to his shoulder, beckoning Jesse to follow him. “Come on, I have a suspicion as to what we will find up here.”

 

They made their way down the corridor, Jesse trailing behind Hanzo, constantly looking over his shoulder as they walked. Up ahead, the corridor ended in a T-junction, a heavy, dark red wooden door with black hinges occupying a wide stretch of the wall in front of them. Beyond, they could hear the rattle of chains and the chattering of voices, interspersed with a wide range of growls, shrieks, screeches, and snarls.

 

“What is this?” Hanzo asked. He scoped the corridor to the sides, seeking any enemies that may hide in the shadows before he cautiously approached it. Jesse kept close behind him, hyper focused on the three corridors to either side of them as Hanzo studied the door. The door stretched up the wall, the dark red wood cracked and warped with age, the black metal hinges flaking with rust.

 

“Hanzo, I don’t think this is the laboratory,” Jesse whispered behind him. “The door ain’t right.”

 

“I know,” Hanzo agreed, staring at the handle. He reached up, running his fingers over the curve of the welded metal, threading his hand around the grip. He pulled experimentally, the old, rusted metal groaning and creaking in resistance, the wood scraping loudly against the stone floor as it inched open. Hanzo leaned his weight back, bracing his feet against the floor to gain purchase and heave the door open. Slowly, the dark room beyond came into view, swallowing all light that entered. The pair of them stared into the vast emptiness, feeling it call to them as they took a step forward —

 

 

 

—  The hallway and the silence stretched on, their footsteps muffled against the dusty stone floor as they walked through the dim light of the long corridor. Hyper aware of each other’s presence at their side, they felt the shiver that rippled through them simultaneously. They stopped in unison, turning to each other with a look.

 

“Um…” Jesse began, blinking owlishly. His hand flexed at his side restlessly.

 

Hanzo reached out and curled his fingers around Jesse’s wrist, halting his hand’s movements halfway to his neck. “Don’t touch your collar.”

 

“I wasn’t going to,” Jesse replied defensively, ruffling his wings.

 

“Yes, you were.”

 

“How’d you know that?” Jesse asked, eyes narrowing at Hanzo. A bead of sweat crawled down his temple, his eyes crinkled in the corners with tension.

 

“The same way you know what I would say if you did.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, “touching it won’t get it off any faster”,” Jesse parroted, before his frown deepened, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. “But you’ve… not said a word t’me since we left the dungeon.”

 

“I know,” Hanzo said, dropping Jesse’s wrist and scanning the corridor. “There is something at work with this corridor.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Jesse replied, rubbing his wrist. “Faust likes using corridors to confuse people and make ‘em nervous… I’ve said all this to you.”

 

“Yes,” Hanzo confirmed. He turned away, and began walking down the corridor in long, firm strides. He picked his way over a pile of broken down wall, barely glancing at the old, disused room behind it. “We have travelled this way already.”

 

“How many times?” Jesse asked, hurrying to catch up with him, his eyes darting around the corridor.

 

“I don’t know,” Hanzo replied truthfully.

 

The corridor curved, but they had yet to find a set of stairs that would take them out the dungeon into the higher floors. A tense silence fell over them, broken by the ruffle of feathers or the soft, muffled click of claws against stone, their shoulders brushing as they strode down the corridor. Hanzo could feel the tremors riding through Jesse’s body, and he leaned his weight closer in silent comfort.

 

It helped, Jesse’ shoulders relaxing from the hunch they had frozen in as they had continued walking, until a sibilant shriek echoed down the corridor, startling them both. Jesse leapt behind Hanzo as he darted forward, bow drawn and arrow notched, poised to attack.

 

“Fuck!” Hanzo cursed through his teeth, his gaze sweeping down the corridor from right to left and back again. He glanced over his shoulder at Jesse crouching behind him when no threat appeared. “Are you alright?”

 

“Yep,” Jesse replied shakily. “Just my pride’s a bit bruised.”

 

“I have enough for both of us to share,” Hanzo said, offering Jesse a hand and helping him up to his feet. “As long as everything else remains intact.”

 

“You gonna make sure that happens?” Jesse asked, flinching as another shriek echoed down the corridor.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Hanzo promised.

 

“Thanks, partner,” Jesse smiled. Hanzo returned it briefly, releasing his hand and nodding down the corridor.

 

“Come on, we must figure out how to get past the door down here,” he said. Jesse nodded, and they kept close together as they hurried down the long stretch of corridor, the red door looming in front of them as they approached the T-junction that held it. Chains rattled behind the old, dark wood, shrieks and screams filtering through the cracks.

 

“Don’t open it,” Jesse whispered.

 

“I’m not going to,” Hanzo said as he studied the door. His eyes drifted to the corridors left and right of it, the end of each disappearing into darkness, hiding the path ahead. He stroked his chin, considering each corridor. He took a few steps down the path to his right, staring down the length of it in thought. “It’s clearly a trap. Which way should we go instead?”

 

He looked over his shoulder at Jesse, who stared up at the towering red door, biting his lip. He had his hand wrapped around the door handle, the muscles in his arm bunched tight as he pulled the door open, the old, heavy wood scraping against the stone as it dragged open inch by inch, slowly revealing the empty darkness behind it.

 

“Jesse! Don’t!” Hanzo yelled, leaping forward as the blackness revealed itself, swallowing everything in the corridor before it —

 

 

 

—   Hanzo grabbed Jesse’s shoulder, dragging him to a halt and spinning him round to face him, his face like thunder.

 

“You absolute fool! What were you thinking, opening that door?” he demanded, his claws digging into Jesse’s shoulders. “We are right back where we started and nowhere closer to saving my brother! Why would you _do_ that?”

 

“I don’t know,” Jesse replied quietly. “I don’t know, I just… I just felt I had to open the door. I needed to find who was behind it.”

 

“There was no one behind it! It was an empty room!” Hanzo snarled, before quickly adding; “Leave the collar alone.”

 

“Sorry,” Jesse muttered, gripping the hem of the kilt in his hands to stop himself from reaching up to the collar again. He dropped his gaze, his shoulders slumping.

 

Hanzo sighed, guilt curling in his chest for his harsh tone. He had been drawn to the door himself, felt the pull to open it and reveal the darkness beyond it, unable to fight. Relaxing his grip on Jesse’s shoulders, he patted them gently and dropped his hands away, taking a step back and giving Jesse space.

 

“I will make sure your collar is removed, and that my brother is returned to me safe,” Hanzo said. “But neither of those things are likely if we keep going around in circles.”

 

“I know. I know.” Jesse swallowed, folding his arms across his chest and ruffling his wings. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault.” Hanzo picked his way over a pile of broken down wall, barely glancing at the old, disused room behind it. “Come on, we have to figure out a way to avoid opening the door and getting to Faust.”

 

“Right behind you, partner,” Jesse said, just as a shriek echoed through the corridor. Jesse jumped, skirting behind Hanzo as he slipped into a defensive stance, his hands balled into fists ready to fight. Nothing jumped out at them from either side, and they relaxed slightly, releasing their held breaths. Jesse smiled crookedly at Hanzo, rubbing his head sheepishly. “You’d think how many times we’ve been round this ride I’d stop kicking my pride to the floor.”

 

“Don’t worry about your pride,” Hanzo replied. “I’m the only one around, and I do not hold it against you.”

 

“Well, I appreciate it.”

 

Hanzo nodded, and they headed down the corridor towards the door —

 

 

 

— “We need a new plan,” Hanzo said, leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor. He rested his arms across his knees, rubbing his eyes. Taking either path to the side of the door led right back to it, walking back the way they came led back to the door, walking _backwards_ towards the door in order to confuse the loop led them back to the start. They were running out of ideas and time was ticking on for Genji.

 

Hanzo closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall. _Hold on Genji. Please don’t think I’ve given up on you._

 

He reached up under the neckline of his _Gi_ and ran a hand over his scales. He couldn’t use the Dragon’s Gift himself, and suspicion stayed his hand from offering it to Jesse. He’d only had eyes for the windows open to the sky when Hanzo had pulled him out of the cage, despite the promises he made to aid Hanzo in his search for Genji. Honour would not hold him to his promise, as it would Hanzo, although Hanzo was not faring any better even with his “guidance” through the castle.

 

He sighed, pulling his hand back and returning it to his knees. He looked up at the ceiling above them, tempted to blast a hole in it and climb up through it. He hesitated only because of the structural integrity he had seen so far through the castle: taking down the ceiling could set off a chain reaction and bring everything down on their heads, and then he would never find Genji.

 

A shuffle across from him drew his gaze, watching Jesse settle down against the opposite wall, wrapping his arms around his drawn-up knees.

 

“I’m sorry, Hanzo,” he said, his eyes downcast. “I thought it’d be easier than this. I don’t know what’s going on.”

 

Hanzo sensed the truth in his words, but they did not settle him. He closed his eyes, and sighed. “We need a new plan to avoid that blasted door.”

 

“I don’t think we can,” Jesse replied. “And… I think we shouldn’t.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“It’s… Well it’s… it’s a dungeon door,” Jesse explained, licking his lips. “You remember what mine looked like?”

 

Hanzo cast his mind back to the door securing the room where Jesse was held: it had been red and black, built from the same cracked wood and metal detail as the door that kept them trapped in this loop. “You think there’s someone trapped beyond the door?”

 

“I think there’s someone in a similar situation as I was in,” Jesse replied. “But, I jus’ don’t understand how the door opens to nothing and we come back here.”

 

Hanzo clicked his tongue against his teeth, pushing himself up from the wall. “Perhaps we missed something.”

 

“How many times have we gone around like this?” Jesse snorted, pulling himself to his feet as well. “How much could we miss?”

 

“You would be surprised,” Hanzo said. The shrieking began, and Jesse flinched. Hanzo grimaced in sympathy, approaching him and resting a hand on his shoulder. “You will be alright. I won’t let any harm to befall you.”

 

“You’d think after going ‘round a few times, a little bit of screaming wouldn’t bother me,” Jesse said, his smile small and strained. He reached up to run his fingers over the collar, but Hanzo intercepted him, curling his hand around Jesse’s and gently lowering it.

 

“You will be alright,” Hanzo repeated. He wrapped his fingers around Jesse’s wrist, encouraging him forward as he picked his way over a pile of broken down wall, barely glancing at the old, disused room behind it. “Come on, we have to investigate the door.”

 

Jesse nodded, beginning to follow, when he stopped short, forcing Hanzo to halt with him. Hanzo turned, unable to stop the ripple of mild irritation through him at yet another delay, but Jesse didn’t notice his scowl, his eyes turned to the empty room beside them. Hanzo followed his gaze, and blinked. The room was a lot narrower than he had first noticed, the walls offset to add the illusion of greater depth to it. It was more like a parallel corridor running along beside the one where they stood.

 

“What?” he murmured, as Jesse leaned over and reached out his free hand, testing the empty air.

 

His hand passed through the gap unhindered.

 

They shared a look, and as if reading each other’s minds, they climbed over the pile of fallen bricks and hurried down the new stretch of corridor, taking a sharp turn to the right, and then right again, doubling back down a shorter corridor before a left turn found them at the edge of a large, dark, room.

 

The chittering and screeching were louder here, and it took them a moment to see why: creatures the colour of soot with matted hair and long, spidery legs and too many teeth skittered across the floor and up the walls. They clamoured and piled on top of each other, snapping and biting, their high-pitched growls and shrieks bouncing off the walls and filling the room.

 

In the centre of the room, suspended upside down from the ceiling on a thick chain, hung a blindfolded man, twitching and crying out in pain. The creatures scaled the chain, dozens of them clinging to the swinging, creaking metal. They crawled over his twitching body, one or two occasionally losing their grip and falling to the floor with a dull _splat_ , before righting themselves and scuttling away across the floor or up the wall.

 

Jesse grabbed Hanzo’s arm, his palm cold and clammy, and took a step back before Hanzo caught him, keeping him in place. Hanzo’s own hands were slick with sweat, the sight of the scuttling little creatures – no bigger than his palm – curdling his stomach, his heart racing in his chest. Shivers ran down his spine, a chill seeping into his bones as his mind, unbidden, conjured up every memory he possessed of times when he had been unfair, or even cruel, to Genji.

 

The worst, the one he still felt guilty about to the day, looped in his mind in a never-ending cycle: they had been younger, much younger, Hanzo had barely developed the fuller range of his abilities and Genji…

 

“No,” he hissed through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, but he could not blot out the memory that seared the inside of his eyelids.

 

It wasn’t a memory anymore, he was there. He could feel the mounting anger over the days leading up to his outburst; the roar in his ears as his blood boiled at every little thing that Genji did, how his head pounded with a growing headache with his crying and whining, the ache in his jaw as he gritted his teeth with _every_ refusal Genji had to do the _simplest_ thing. He wouldn’t eat what Hanzo prepared, he wouldn’t come out of the sun when it got too hot and then cried when he got burnt, he wouldn’t sit still for Hanzo to apply ointments, he wouldn’t listen when Hanzo warned him not to climb so high when he couldn’t fly yet and ended up hurting himself, he wouldn’t go to sleep and ended up cranky and even more belligerent, he wouldn’t pay attention to his studies…

 

“ _No_ ,” Hanzo moaned, clutching his head and curling over himself. He didn’t want to remember this. He carried the weight of it with him every day, heavy with so much regret he could never find the right words to voice how sorry he was, how he hadn’t meant any of what he had said or done.

 

“Please,” he whimpered, barely registering the sharp little pinpricks crawling up his legs and along his tail, growing heavier and heavier until he couldn’t move it. The chittering and shrieking grew louder, ringing in his ears as the memory continued to play, over and over again, reaching the breaking point when he had finally snapped, had finally had enough of Genji’s whining and crying and disrespect and tantrums.

 

“I don’t want to remember this…” he said. “Not now, please don’t make me remember this now.”

 

_W̼̳͎̹̫̜̽̄ͮͧ͂h̻͓͕̳͈͍̹̅ͫ͊͂̑a̼̩̖̽̽̒̐t̺̦̥ͅ ͓̣d̅ͣͥͨ̎ͬ̌ì̄ͨ̊̎̚d̠̲͉͆̏̄̾̇ͥ̅ ̜͙̳̼̈ͧ͌̏y̼̺ͤ̍̐o̫͖̝ͣͩ̊͒͂̀̔u͉̺̱̣̪̭͚ͬͦ͌͐̎̐̋ ̥͚͙̄̈́͋̓̅s͔̦̠͚̥̑ạ͚͇̐̑̅̍y͇̳̌ ̉ͮͅt͑͑͒̉͛ō͙̻̞͖͈͑ͣͨ̚ ͎͉̼̞̘̥̙̏́̐̄ͤ̔h͉̠̩̮͇̣i̜m͚̈́̐ͅ?͖̼̭͙_

_͙̦͙͉́_

_W͉̖̭̮̗͐̇͐ͣͮ̂h̖͖̼͇͔ȧ̜̎̑̽͂ͦt̲̞̙̽̿ ̈́ͭ̽̔ͮd̦̪̖͓̻ͭ̓̈́͛i̾ͬd̯ͦͅ ͕͉͔̊̀̚ỹ͚͉͍̼͓̲ͩo̮͎̣̯͓ͦ̑u͖͍̘̗͖͓ͤͧͥ̅ͨͤ̆ ̬̻̯͓̲̔ͥd̽̅ȍ̘̩̻̬̩̬̔̊͛̆ ͈̜͙t̺̄̓̄͐͐͆̑o̦̻̩̜͖͓ͮ̾̈́̍̓̍ͭ ̰̱̪͔̗͙͉ͯ̊ͭͫ̈̃h̳̣͎̖̗ͨi̗̬̦͓̫m͍̟̖̠̝͙̝ͮ̋?̟̘̏_

“I… I…”

_W̙͍̪̏ḣǎ̠t̯̦̼͖̭͚ ͋͊͌̚d̬̞̱̱̗̘̙̃ͤ̒̾ͥ͊i̘̖͎̮͔͊̚d͍̺̪̱̥͎̙͋͑̀̑͆̓ ̬̜̰̳̪̂̏ͧͥ͑̀̋y͚̭̱̺̙̲̰̋̏͆ͭ̂̓ͮȏ͗̈ū͍̹̞̗̪̥͗̇ ̟̣̱͑s̠͇̻͕̉̇ͦ̋̅̾͊a͙͓̫̰͉͚̱ͯ̐ͤ͊y̭̳̹͓͓͙ͮ́̀̈́̉?̖ͫͤ͋ͩ̅̄_

_̘̱͈̝̻͗̿̂ͅ                                                            W̙͍̪̏ḣǎ̠t̯̦̼͖̭͚ ͋͊͌̚d̬̞̱̱̗̘̙̃ͤ̒̾ͥ͊i̘̖͎̮͔͊̚d͍̺̪̱̥͎̙͋͑̀̑͆̓ ̬̜̰̳̪̂̏ͧͥ͑̀̋y͚̭̱̺̙̲̰̋̏͆ͭ̂̓ͮȏ͗̈ū͍̹̞̗̪̥͗̇ ̟̣̱͑s̠͇̻͕̉̇ͦ̋̅̾͊a͙͓̫̰͉͚̱ͯ̐ͤ͊y̭̳̹͓͓͙ͮ́̀̈́̉?̖ͫͤ͋ͩ̅̄_

_̘̱͈̝̻͗̿̂ͅ_

_W̯̠͇̙̹̓͑̿̊̋ͧhͫ͐͌̏͑͛a͓̰̤̘̅̏̐̽̚t͎̹̳̘ ̙̹͉̠ͩ̿̎̔̓ͅd͓i̦d̥̘̟̬͗ ͓̟͖͚̞̪̩ͦ̒̔ÿ͈́͌o̘̪̪͖͉ͮu̲͉̼̼̣͗ ̭͙͖̣̘ḋ̻̯̼oͩ?ͧ͋ͪͦ̆̈_

_͕̖̹_ _W̯̠͇̙̹̓͑̿̊̋ͧhͫ͐͌̏͑͛a͓̰̤̘̅̏̐̽̚t͎̹̳̘ ̙̹͉̠ͩ̿̎̔̓ͅd͓i̦d̥̘̟̬͗ ͓̟͖͚̞̪̩ͦ̒̔ÿ͈́͌o̘̪̪͖͉ͮu̲͉̼̼̣͗ ̭͙͖̣̘ḋ̻̯̼oͩ?ͧ͋ͪͦ̆̈_

“I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean to say it!” he burst out, fingers digging into his scalp as he dropped to the floor, curling his arms over his head and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to force the memory away, reaching for something – anything – to replace it. Still, it played in his mind on repeat: the building anger, the incessant squabbling, the crying, the yelling, the frustration, the headaches, until —

 

— The creatures chatter changed into screeches of fright, the weight falling from his back as the darkness behind his eyelids exploded with light. Hanzo tensed, his shoulders rising to his ears as the creatures screamed, their spindly legs ticking rapidly across the floor in their escape. The silence they left in their absence hung thick in the air, and Hanzo shivered despite his core temperature making it impossible for the chill to affect him.

 

He raised his head from his arms, blinking away the daze from his mind, and looked at the empty room. The blindfolded man hung motionless where he was suspended, the chain swinging gently back and forth. Now that the creatures had disappeared, Hanzo could see a plain wooden door at the other end of the room, and his heart leapt in his chest.

 

He stood on shaky legs, and took two weak steps towards the door before he stopped, his gaze searching before his mind caught up to what he was seeking: his eyes fell on Jesse a moment later, propped up against the wall with his arms hanging limp at his sides, his legs stretched out across the floor. His head lolled to one side, long locks of hair shielding his eyes. His chest barely rose, and Hanzo momentarily froze in fear that he was dead.

 

He shook himself free of the stomach-dropping fear, and rushed to Jesse’s side, crouching down next to him.

 

“Jesse?” he said, reaching out and gently brushing the hair out of his eyes and behind his ear, his hand sliding down to grasp his shoulder. “Jesse?”

 

There was nothing for several long, painful seconds. Hanzo held his breath, his grip on Jesse tightening in fear as Jesse remained motionless. Then, he moaned weakly, his shoulders slumping as he shifted, and Hanzo breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Jesse! Jesse, wake up now! We have to go,” he urged, tilting Jesse’s face up with his free hand, studying it. “Jesse?”

 

Jesse’s eyes fluttered open briefly, and Hanzo jerked back in shock. For the brief moment Jesse had looked at him, Hanzo would swear Jesse’s eyes had turned from warm, earthy brown to sunset red.

 

“Jesse?” he asked again, shaking his shoulder. Jesse blinked awake fully with a gasp and a full body jerk, muscles tense and his eyes darting around the room before the landed on Hanzo. Recognition followed, and he relaxed, rolling his head back against the wall. His eyes were once again a soft, dark brown.

 

“Hey there, partner,” he said, his voice dry and cracked. He cleared his throat, running his tongue over his lips. “Was worried for a second there.”

 

“ _You_ were worried about _me_?” Hanzo repeated. “I am not the one who is slumped half dead against the wall.”

 

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed, pushing himself further up with a wince. “Didn’t know that’d happen, t’be fair.”

 

“Didn’t know what would…?” Hanzo trailed off, his eyes narrowing as they fell to the collar wrapped around Jesse’s throat. The sigils on it glowed faintly, the metal thrumming so strongly Hanzo could hear it hum. Realisation dawned on him. “You fool! You utter fool, you tried to use your power with that around your neck! You could’ve killed yourself.”

 

“I feel it’s debatable that I didn’t,” Jesse said with a pained huff. Hanzo watched him for a long moment, incredulous.

 

“How did you even manage to gather the energy to do it?” Hanzo asked. “You’re skin and bone.”

 

“Hey! I ain’t looking that bad,” Jesse argued. “Just need a li’l bit of sun and I’ll be right as rain.”

 

“You’ll have plenty of time for that once we save my brother,” Hanzo replied, swallowing the sour taste in his mouth as he thought of Genji and the old memory. He grabbed Jesse’s arm, pulling it over his shoulder and hooking his free arm around his back, hauling him to his feet. He nodded at the door at the other end of the room. “Let’s go.”

 

“Hey, wait a minute. We can’t just leave him,” Jesse said, bracing his weight against Hanzo’s hold, staring at the hanging man. Hanzo scowled, pulling him forward.

 

“He is not our concern.”

 

“That’s cold. What if it was Genji hanging there? What if someone who could help came across him, and decided they’d leave him just ‘cause he wasn’t _their_ concern?” Jesse asked.

 

Hanzo froze, Jesse’s words dragging the memory back up from the depths of his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing it away before it could start looping again in his head.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Jesse asked.

 

Hanzo breathed carefully through his nose, and pulled away from Jesse. “I am fine. You are right, we should help him, but we should be quick about it.”

 

Jesse nodded, and they approached the man, quickly devising the easiest way to get him down would be for Hanzo to burn the chains while Jesse supported him. Jesse braced the man’s shoulders, shifting him in his grip so he could peel off the blindfold, tossing it to the ground.

 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, we got you,” he assured him. The man didn’t respond, his eyes remaining closed and his breathing shallow. Hanzo made quick work of the chains, the rings melting in the pale blue flames and releasing the man’s full weight onto Jesse. He was heavier than Jesse expected, sending them both to the ground before Hanzo could stop them, and Jesse landed with yelp. “Ow…”

 

“Are you alright?” Hanzo asked, crouching down next to them and pulling the remains of the chains from around the man’s ankles.

 

“Yeah, I think so,” Jesse said, laying the man flat on the ground. He was pale, and scarred, dressed all in red. His hands had not been bound, which was strange, and while his eyes were rimmed in dark bruises of sleeplessness, he showed no other signs of undernourishment or maltreatment. “Is he dead?”

 

“He’s breathing.” Hanzo studied him, patting down his pockets for some idea of who the man could be. If Faust had been the one to string him up and he was the cause of the time loop, Hanzo guessed he was one more of Faust’s failed experiments.

 

“Yeah, I know, but… you can never tell.”

 

“Even though he’s breathing?” Hanzo clicked his tongue, leaning back on his haunches when the man’s identity remained elusive.

 

“Look. It’s been a long day,” Jesse sighed, falling back onto his rear and scratching his head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was dead _and_ still breathing.”

 

“Why is that?” Hanzo asked. Jesse shrugged.

 

“Just the kinda thing you see around here,” he said.

 

“In Faust’s laboratory?” Hanzo looked up at Jesse, who suddenly went quiet, hugging his arms around himself, his eyes drawn to the floor. “What is he even doing in his labs? What does he hope to gain from these… “experiments”?”

 

“What does anybody want?”

 

“ _I_ want to find my brother and go home,” Hanzo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, I suppose, power would be the obvious answer, but you and I know that powers like ours can not be forcefully taken and still used effectively. They have to be freely given.”

 

Jesse’s head snapped up, staring at him with a furrowed brow and questioning eyes. Hanzo stared back at him, blinking in surprise.

 

“You… did know that, right?” he asked. Jesse swallowed, and said nothing. Hanzo clicked his tongue against his teeth, looking down at the man lying between them.

 

“What should we –?” he began.

 

“I could try –” Jesse said at the same time. “Sorry, what were you going to say?”

 

“No, you first,” Hanzo said. “What do you want to try?”

 

Jesse worried his lip, his wings ruffling behind him. He drew them forward, as if to cocoon himself in them, threading his fingers through the thinned feathers. His fingers closed around the shaft of a smaller feather along the length of the secondary humerus. His lips thinned, his eyes tightening at the corners as he squeezed them shut and pulled the feather free, sending a tremor through his wings.

 

Hanzo watched in silence as Jesse held the pale feather in the palm of his hand. He exhaled deeply, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes. His eyes found Hanzo’s, and he smiled nervously.

 

“I, uh, I don’t quite know how well this is gonna work,” he said.

 

“Jesse, the collar—” Hanzo warned.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. It’ll… It’ll be fine.” He swallowed, curling his fist around the feather and crushing it in his hand. Pale light filtered between his fingers as he ground the feather into dust, his palm painted gold when he opened it, the pale, glittering dust covering it in a thin film. Cautiously reaching out his head, he laid it against the man’s forehead, covering his eyes. Jesse’s own eyes slid shut, his brow creasing in concentration.

 

Hanzo didn’t dare blink as the seconds stretched on, Jesse’s frown deepening into a grimace the longer he kept his hand pressed against the man’s head. Sweat beaded on his brow, trickling down his temples and his neck. Fine tremors wracked his body as the sigils on the collar hummed irritably, like a swarm of hornets. A thin trickle of blood escaped from his nose. Hanzo lunged forward, ready to pull Jesse’s hand away and stop his struggle, when the man startled awake, jerking up and knocking them both back on their asses in surprise. His head swung from side to side as he stared at them in turn, his mind working at lightning speed behind his eyes as he took in their appearances.

 

“Who’re —?” he rasped.

 

“Hanzo. Jesse,” Hanzo answered, quickly recovering and pointing to himself and then Jesse.

 

“How’d you—?”

 

“Jesse scared away the chronomoriae,” Hanzo cut him off again. “He also revived you.”

 

The man swallowed, his pale blue gaze boring into Jesse.

 

Jesse smiled hesitantly and wiped the blood away from his nose, offering him a shy wave.

 

The man frowned, scrubbing his hand down his face with a sigh.

 

“You shouldn’t have done that, kid,” he said gruffly. Jesse’s face fell.

 

“I… I jus’ wanted to help.”

 

“Yeah, well, that was a bad idea. You should’ve just let them have me.”

 

“What? Why? No way,” Jesse said. “They feed on your worst memory and keep you reliving it over and over again. Why would I leave them to it?”

 

Hanzo levelled his gaze at Jesse, blinking in surprise at Jesse’s scattered knowledge. He knew about chronomoriae, but not how his own powers worked, or about the Dracona of Storm’s Peak. Despite the urgency pressing at the edges of him mind to find Genji as quickly as possible, especially after reliving that memory, his curiosity was piqued with Jesse.

 

“I know what they are,” the man said, running his hand through his hair. He drew his knees up, bracing his elbows against them as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. “They were my penance.”

 

“Penance?” Hanzo repeated, stiffening. His hand slid to his bow. If the man was a criminal or a danger to them, he would need to be removed from their path as soon as possible.

 

The man huffed a laugh, half-smiling at Hanzo as if reading his mind. “At ease, soldier, I’m no threat to you.”

 

“So, what _are_ you, exactly?” Hanzo asked, his hand remaining on the bow.

 

“Who are you? How did Faust get a hold of you?” Jesse asked.

 

The man grimaced, grumbling at the back of his throat. “The only name I’ve known for myself for the last few thousand years is “Jack”; whatever name I had before that is lost to history.”

 

“I’m sorry, did you say a “few thousand years”?” Hanzo asked, realisation dawning on him. “You’re an _Immortal_?”

 

“Yeah, one of the last,” Jack replied. “Maybe the last, I don’t know. We don’t really hold regular conventions.”

 

“So, what are you doing here?” Jesse asked.

 

“Other than suffering,” Hanzo added. Jesse shot him a disapproving look, and Hanzo shrugged.

 

“I got blindsided,” Jack said simply. “One night, Gabe and I were going about our business when suddenly we’re surrounded by these… creatures, experiments, I don’t know what they are, but they had has surrounded. We tried to fight them off, but they overpowered us, and then… and then Faust appeared, popped out of the shadows like he was made of them.”

 

Jack swallowed, his hands balling into fists against his forehead. He closed his eyes, his raspy voice cracking as he slowly continued. “He wanted Gabriel. He wanted to experiment on him, said a dhampir was perfect for his “research”. I wasn’t gonna let that happen. He didn’t know I was an Immortal until he was dragging Gabe away, and I said to take me instead. I told him what I was, I told him to take me in his place.”

 

Jesse visibly shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as he listened to more and more of Jack’s story. Hanzo’s chest constricted in sympathy, and he reached out and curled his hand around Jesse’s wrist, stroking his thumb over the reddened skin. He smiled when Jesse relaxed, and Jack continued his story.

 

“He agreed.” Jack swallowed, licking his lips, unable to suppress the full body shudder that overtook him. “Gabriel tried to fight back, but there were just too many of them. I thought if I just traded myself for Gabriel, that would be it. We would live to fight another day but... Faust didn't leave it at that. He wanted - he wasn't satisfied with that, so when he had me tied up, had me unable to intervene or stop him he... he..."

 

Jack sucked in a breath, tears streaming down his cheeks. "He cut off his head. Right in front of me. He just... he just cut it off, while he was lying there, defenceless. I said I would trade myself for him and he just, he just..."

 

 

“I relive that day, over and over again, wondering what I could have done differently,” Jack finished, rubbing a hand down his face, trying to wipe away his tears without them seeing. He fell into silence, his head hanging low against his chest.

 

 

 

Jesse sniffed, wiping his cheeks across the back of his arm. Hanzo’s palm was warm against his skin, carefully loose around the raw, reddened skin of his wrist. His thumb stroked slow, gentle lines back and forth across his pulse point, giving no indication in his posture or face that he was aware that he was doing it or if it was an involuntary reflex; perhaps he did it to Genji when Genji was upset.

 

“You can’t blame yourself,” he said. “Faust isn’t a good man, he would’ve done something horrible to the both of you no matter what you tried.”

 

Jack huffed a dry laugh under his breath. “I appreciate the sentiment, kid, but that doesn’t change the past.”

 

He rubbed his head, straightening up and looking at Hanzo and Jesse in turn. “So, what are the pair of you doing here? You don’t look like you’re particularly trapped.”

 

“Well…” Jesse said, raising his chin and exposing the collar. Jack grunted at the sight of it. Jesse tilted his head back down, rubbing his neck. “Yeah.”

 

“I’m here in search of my brother,” Hanzo said. “He was taken by Faust. I intend to get him back and make Faust pay for kidnapping him.”

 

“I wish you the best of luck with that,” Jack replied sincerely. He looked around the room, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. “If Faust has him though, I wouldn’t hold out too much hope of getting him back in one piece.”

 

“Any piece of my brother that is not still attached to him, when I find him, will be taken out three-fold on Faust,” Hanzo said fiercely. “And anyone else who stands in my way.”

 

Jack’s lips twitched in a smile, looking over Hanzo once more from head to toe. “Ah. You’re a dragon. That makes sense, now.”

 

Hanzo growled under his breath, glaring at Jack. Jack smirked, and pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his jacket and trousers. Hanzo let go of Jesse’s wrist, rising in one fluid motion. Jesse was left to scramble to his feet as well, his wrist still warm where Hanzo had held it.

 

“What will you do, now?” Hanzo asked, folding his arms across his chest.

 

“I suppose, I’ll just have to find a way out of this place,” Jack replied. “I’d say it would be better for you to do the same, but you wouldn’t.”

 

“You are correct.”

 

Jack hummed under his breath, and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, retrieving a small, compact brass disk tied to the end of a thick leather loop. He turned it in his hands, his gaze sweeping over the detailed design on the front of it. “I suppose I should thank you, for getting rid of the chronomoriae and releasing me.”

 

He held it out to them, and they stared at it curiously, before Hanzo reached out and plucked it from his hand.

 

“What is it?” he asked, turning it in his hands as Jack had done.

 

“A compass,” he said, just as Hanzo found the latch to open it, revealing a slim, diamond-shaped needle spinning lazily under a glass cover. The moment Hanzo gazed at the face of it, the needle jumped wildly, pointing at the door before them. The dull brass rim was indented with eight small marks spaced equally around the circle, but they did not specify north, south, east, or west. Jesse leaned in and peered over his shoulder, staring at it with equal interest.

 

“What is this?” Hanzo asked, frowning.

 

“It’s a compass with very particular properties,” Jack replied. “It doesn’t point north, but it does point towards whatever you want most.”

 

Hanzo’s eyes widened in realisation, and Jesse’s heart dropped to his stomach. With the compass, Hanzo would have no reason to keep Jesse around and no reason to help him get rid of the collar, whether or not he believed his lie. He rubbed his neck, his fingertips barely fitting in the gap between the collar and his skin. Perhaps he could find some kind of tool to pry it off, or just keep it on for the rest of his days.

 

“Thank you,” Hanzo said solemnly, bowing at the waist to Jack. His hand tightened around the compass, looking thoughtful as he raised one hand hesitantly to his shoulder. “I would offer you something in return for this, when you could use it yourself to find a way out.”

 

Jack held up a hand, shaking his head. “No, I can find my way out just fine without it. Besides, it wouldn’t help; there’s nothing I want on the outside, anyway.”

 

Hanzo dropped his hand from his shoulder, visibly relieved. Jesse frowned, narrowing his eyes, before he quickly looked away when Hanzo turned to face him.

 

“We should hurry,” he said. Jesse whipped his head round so fast his neck cricked, and he grit his teeth against the electric tingle that spread up one side of his neck.

 

“What?” he asked, fighting the urge to rub at the back of his neck.

 

“We wasted too much time in the loop, we must make up for it if we are to get my brother back and that collar off,” Hanzo said, holding out his hand for Jesse to take.

 

Jesse blinked, staring at it in disbelief as his mind processed what Hanzo just said. “Really?”

 

“Jesse, I need to get to my brother,” Hanzo said patiently, though there was an edge to it. “Your help would still be of value when we get to the laboratory, but I cannot waste anymore time. Are you coming with me or not?”

 

Jesse licked his lips, trying to push the fear bubbling in the back of his mind down. He reached out a trembling hand, and cupped their hands together. “I’m coming.”

 

Hanzo smiled, and nodded. “Let’s go.”


	5. XIII Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XIII. Death  
> Death is indicative of change in your future. This change can be in almost any aspect of your life, but it will almost certainly be permanent, significant, and absolute.

“I hope he’ll be alright,” Jesse said as they hurried down the corridor, slowing when they came to a crossroad.

 

“He will be fine, I am sure. He’s an Immortal who has lived for some time, he knows how to look after himself.” Hanzo barely looked up, staring intently at the compass in his hand as it spun in a rapid blur before it slammed to a halt, pointing down the left-hand corridor. He grabbed Jesse’s hand and tugged, and they set off again, half jogging, half walking down the long twisting corridor and up a new flight of cut stone stairs. These ones were thankfully in better condition than the set they had previously encountered after they parted ways with Jack through the doorway they had found, taking the left-hand corridor while he disappeared down the right with a final wish of luck to them.

 

“Maybe, but this place isn’t the easiest to navigate,” Jesse said, hopping over a gap left by two broken steps. “And, Faust has all kinds of crazy experiments roaming around, what if he runs into one of them? He didn’t have a weapon, and he lost someone he loves. That can really put a dampen on the fighting spirit, you know?”

 

“You think he would deliberately let himself be killed because his lover died?” Hanzo asked. He looked up, studying the crumbled segment of the castle to their right, which had taken what seemed like an entire wing of the tower. A cool breeze drifted through the gouge, the ground where Hanzo had started several floors below them. “Without even attempting to find a new life now that he can be free of this place?”

 

“Some life he’d have,” Jesse muttered, slowing down to stare out across the dead, empty, flat landscape. The pale blue of the sky faded into silvery white at the horizon, blending in with the bone white dust that coated the land. “Everything is dead.”

 

“Not everything,” Hanzo replied, stopping when their arms stretched too far between them, releasing his hand. He turned and studied Jesse. “How long have you been trapped in this place?”

 

“Not… too long. I think,” Jesse answered, scratching his head. Hanzo frowned.

 

“Where did you live before you ended up here?” he asked. “Stormsreach still thrives in places beyond this desert. Surely you know that?”

 

“Guess I didn’t get out that much to know that kinda thing.” Jesse turned away from the empty land before him, and swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. “Come on, we should keep going.”

 

Hanzo stared at him, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “Jesse.”

 

Hanzo frowned, staring at Jesse for several long moments before he looked away, whatever question on his mind saved for another time, and studied the land beyond the gap in the wall. “Shouldn’t the laboratory be closer to the centre of the castle? I feel like we should be further in, rather than near the outer walls.”

 

“This place is pretty confusing,” Jesse replied. “Sometimes you gotta go further out to get in, and further in to get out.”

 

“Hn. Annoying.”

 

“Heh, ain’t it just… I hope Jack finds his way out,” he added.

 

Hanzo clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “He will be fine, I am sure, and – Jesse, look out!”

 

 

Hanzo slammed into him, his shoulder connecting with his stomach and sending them crashing to the floor. The corridor echoed with the roar of twin shotgun blasts, the stone walls shattering overhead and raining debris down on them. Hanzo leapt to his feet, hooking his elbow under Jesse's arm and hauling him behind a segment of wall. Pulling his bow from his back and notching an arrow, he cunk low into a crouch at the edge of their cover. Jesse pulled himself up with a grunt, hugging his middle and wincing as pain bloomed across his back.

 

Two more gunshots thundered down the corridor, splintering stone walls and sending dust flying down over the head.

 

 "What. The hell. Is that?" He gasped, his ribs on fire with every breath.

 

 "See for yourself," Hanzo replied, loosing an arrow at their assailant.

 

 Jesse huffed, wincing as he pushed himself up and craned his neck to glance over the edge of the half-broken wall that protected them.

 

At the end of the corridor stood a tall, broad shouldered figure dressed in ragged black and red clothes, a cloak billowing behind them as they fired a shotgun from each hand. At the neck of their collar, there was an empty space where their head should have been.

 

Jesse ducked his head back behind the stone. "Well, shit."

 

"Rather crudely spoken, but the sentiment is shared," Hanzo replied. “We need to find a way around him.”

 

“Only one way through this corridor, and it’s right through him.” Jesse ducked closer to Hanzo when the edge was blasted away by another shot, scattering dust and debris across the floor. Hanzo pressed a hand against his shoulder, covering him as gunshots echoed through the corridor around them. Hanzo dipped his head, his chin resting in the crook of Jesse’s neck. His warm breath ghosted against the shell of Jesse’s ear, his lips forming his next words against his skin.

 

“It’s not the only way around him,” he murmured, and Jesse’s eyes widened. Directly behind him, facing Hanzo, was the large opening in the crumbling wall leading to the outside.

 

“Hanzo, no –”

 

Too late.

 

Hanzo braced his weight against Jesse, hooking one arm under his armpit and around his back, pushing him up onto his feet during a lull in the shots. Jesse had no time to resist when he was shoved back blindly, Hanzo half carrying him as he took three long strides across the corridor and leapt into the open air. He spread his wings on instinct, trying to catch a draft of air to keep him from falling, but the angle was wrong, crushed against Hanzo above him with his own wings outstretched, counterbalancing him and throwing them into a tumble through the air. Jesse’s stomach dropped as they fell, struggling to correct their path until they crashed into the loose, cracked shingles on one of the lower roofs, skidding down the sharp slope to the edge.

 

Hanzo dug his claws deep into the black tiles, his other hand wrapped around Jesse’s wrist until they came to a stop, their feet swinging over the long drop to the ground.

 

Jesse pulled himself up with a huff as Hanzo stood, snatching up his bow and spreading his wings, his gaze drawn to the opening as the headless figure appeared. His shotguns levelled at the pair of them once more, taking aim.

 

“Jesse, move!”

 

Jesse rolled to the side as Hanzo leapt into the air, the slate where they had lain shattering with a loud crack. He slipped, sliding down the roof further.

 

“Shit.” He scrabbled to keep hold of the roof, shingles loosening under his fingertips as he continued to slide off, the stone ledge scraping at his skin. He dug his knees against the ledge, bracing his weight against it, and pulled his wings close to his body to stop the wind catching in them and dragging him further back. Pulling himself back onto the rickety shingles on his hands and knees, he looked up, searching the sky for Hanzo, who dodged and wove around the headless figure’s shots, returning his own with long trails of blue fire that enveloped the figure in an explosion of smoke and flame, bringing the walls and roof down around him.

 

The tower rumbled with the fight, the vibrations travelling up Jesse’s limbs as he pushed himself up the sloping curve of the rooftop, keeping his body low and his eyes on the assailant battling Hanzo. At least he couldn’t fly.

 

Jesse looked over his shoulder at his own wings pulled tight against his body. If he could fly, he would have at least one advantage, but the collar was heavy around his neck, the lack of a consistent supply of food and water still a strain on his body.

 

Another shot made him duck his head, fear spiking as his eyes once again sought out Hanzo, breathing again when he saw him on an opposite roof, his wings beating a strong wind around him, his skin almost glowing with the swirling blue fire that surrounded him. Against the burning light of the afternoon sun, he looked otherworldly and dangerous, his silhouette cutting a long shadow across the roof.

 

Jesse swallowed, his throat tight; movement out the corner of his eye drawing his attention to the headless shooter, who had leapt onto the roof, facing off against Hanzo. His back faced Jesse, oblivious or uncaring to his presence, as if he weren’t a threat. Jesse narrowed his eyes, his gaze falling from the figure to Hanzo, who stood against him unafraid and unyielding. Yet nothing he did harmed the headless figure, each shot leaving him unscathed, and despite his prowess, it was only a matter of time before something happened to him.

 

Jesse couldn’t let that happen.

 

He unfurled his wings, stretching them out across the roof. He let the wind flow through the ragged feathers, catching hold of them and coaxing him to take to the air. Taking a steadying breath, he rose to his feet, the cold wind whipping around him, catching in his hair and fluttering it around his face. The aches and strains of his body disappeared under the sunlight bathing him in its warmth, his dream-memory of it against his face returning with a burning in his chest. The thundercracks of the shotguns and the roaring blaze of fire filled the air, sweeping across the rooftops to Jesse. He gritted his teeth, bracing himself against the roof, and leapt straight up into the air.

 

His wings caught an updraft, sending him soaring up into the air above the rooftops. The crisp wind chilled his skin, running through his feathers. The sun beat against his face, the half blinding glare almost welcome to him. For a moment, he remembered freedom, and had it in his grasp.

 

Then he fell.

 

Nausea cramped his stomach, and he doubled over with a gasp. Black dots flashed in front of his eyes, his head rolling with pain. The collar throbbed against his throat, heavy on his neck, his muscles and joints screaming at the exertion forced on them to keep him in the air. He tumbled back down to the rooftops, blind to where he landed with a painful thump, rolling down and off the edge of one roof onto another, the sharp, broken slates cutting into his skin and scraping at his legs and arms, his hands scrambling for any sort of support.

His beating wings caught another gust of wind, and it pulled him from his perch, sending him crashing into one of the castle’s walls and sinking onto the ramparts. He groaned, coming to a stop, crumpled in a heap in a corner between a wall and the angle of a rooftop. His ribs creaked with the strain of sucking in enough air into his lungs after being winded so badly, and he slowly opened his eyes, blinking the sunlight from them as he surveyed his new surroundings.

 

He hadn’t fallen far from the fight, Hanzo’s silhouette darting around against the solid blue of the sky. Pushing himself up, he studied his surroundings, seeking the quickest path back to Hanzo. A balcony sat above him, casting a long shadow down the roof, and he began to carefully climb towards it. The roof wasn’t as solid here, slates slipping out from under his hands and feet as he climbed, the support beams underneath creaking and groaning with his weight. Grimacing with each slow step, he reached the balcony, stretching his arm out to grab the wall when the roof beneath him sounded a deep, heavy _crack_.

 

He jolted, losing his balance. He slammed his hand down to steady himself as the roof around him dipped dangerously low in a deep hollow, groaning as it splintered and split underneath him. He cursed, pushing himself up onto his knees and frantically reaching for the balcony again when the roof dropped out beneath him, sending him down into the darkness below with a scream.

 

He tumbled down blindly, free falling into whatever room below him, and landed heavily on the wooden floor, a burst of dust puffing up around him. Loose shingles and wood clattered around him, bouncing on the floor and into the dim room. He blinked, sprawled out across the floor in the patch of sunlight streaming in through the open hole in the roof above him. Wincing, he shuffled into a seated position, his muscles and joints arguing with him with every shift, and looked around the room.

 

It was dark, save for the small circle of light he sat in, but he could make out several tall columns dotted around the room, inlaid with glass fronted holes set in them at regular intervals around their sides. He couldn’t see more than the two or three lines that were nearest him, the contents of the glass cages hidden by the darkness and a thick layer of dust on their surfaces.

 

Curiosity outweighing caution, he crawled to the nearest pillar, rising up on his knees and wiping away the dust. Peering into the deep inset, he was greeted with the wide grin of an old, yellowed skull.

 

He yelped, falling back and scurrying away from it’s creepy, eyeless stare. His gaze darted around the room at the countless columns, the countless boxes lining them from floor to ceiling.

 

“Okay, fuck this.” He pushed himself to his feet, searching for a way out, when he heard the distinct, shuffling thump of footsteps behind him.

 

He froze, his heart plummeting to his stomach. His breath stopped short in his throat, sweat prickling the back of his neck and temples. He glanced out the corner of his eyes, seeking the other occupant of the room. Only darkness greeted him, and he sucked in a sharp, quiet breath, tiptoeing two small steps to his left and sliding behind a pillar, pressing his back against the cold, hard stone and glass, ignoring the contents of them.

 

The footsteps beyond the pillar thudded dully against the dusty floor, making their way around the room, close enough to make Jesse’s heart pound against his ribs, close enough that he dared not chance a peek around his hiding place to see what stood between him and any exit from the room. Gritting his teeth to stop them chattering, he clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides, desperately wishing that he wasn’t alone, that Hanzo was there to face whatever was in the room with him.

 

“I know you’re there,” a deep, rumbling voice cut through the darkness. Jesse slammed his hand against his mouth to stop crying out, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. His legs trembled, threatening to give out from underneath him: the last time Jesse had been pulled from his cage to be taken to the laboratory, the Experiment Faust had sent had not been particularly gentle. He had bruises and a bloody nose before he’d even gotten to the laboratory, his head spinning from the rough handling and jarring, vicious shaking.

 

He hadn’t even fought back.

 

“You needn’t be frightened.”

 

That didn’t reassure him.

 

“I know what you are.”

 

That… gave him pause.

 

He narrowed his eyes and dropped his hands from his mouth, turning his head to listen to the patrolling footsteps. They paused, further away than they had been, close enough still to keep Jesse on edge.

 

“Now, how did Faust manage to get his hands on an Avarius?” the stranger mused. Jesse tensed, holding his breath. 

 

“You’ve endured much,” the stranger said solemnly. “Faust committed a heinous crime in his torture of you, he will surely reap what he has sown.”

 

“Seems like he’s already committed a few of them before he ever got to me,” Jesse said, breaking his silence with a quavering voice.

 

“Ah yes, his hall of trophies,” the stranger said sadly. “Many have fallen to his hand, in his quest for immortality and power. Although, death isn’t always as permanent as it seems.”

 

A soft, melodic ringing echoed through the room, drawing Jesse’s attention to the pillar two down from him, a dull red light shining through the dust on one of the glass cases. It pulsed like a heartbeat, hypnotising Jesse with its soft, warm glow and steady, quiet melody. He bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder in fear the stranger was sneaking up on him, before he took a steadying breath and lunged between the rows of pillars to stand in front of the glass case.

 

“What’s in here?” he asked quietly.

 

“What you need to continue your journey with the Dracona, if you so choose,” the stranger replied.

 

“If I choose? Of course, I choose, why wouldn’t I?” he asked in a rush, tripping over the words spilling too quickly from his lips. “I said I’d help him find his brother. He said he’d help me out of this collar.”

 

“Our intentions and our words aren’t always the same thing.”

 

Guilt and fear speared through Jesse, guilt over his initial plan to be free of his collar and run, fear that a shadowy stranger knew what his initial plan had been without ever meeting him before now.

 

“Intentions change,” he said, although the words felt hollow. Even now, after facing the chronomoriae and wanting to help Hanzo fight against the headless man, his stomach churned at the thought of returning to laboratory to face Faust. Cowardly as it was, he’d rather run, even if he couldn’t get far with the collar around his neck.

 

He reached up and touched it, running his finger along the edge of it. Maybe if he had it off, and had access to his powers, he wouldn’t be so scared to face Faust.

 

“Nor are intentions as clear as they seem,” the stranger added, making Jesse frown.

 

“What does that mean?” Jesse narrowed his eyes, thinking it over. “You mean I could have been rid of the collar before now, is that what you’re saying?”

 

The stranger remained silent, and Jesse scowled.

 

“How do I know you’re not working for Faust, tryna trap us both for his experiments?” he demanded.

 

Still no answer.

 

Jesse exhaled a heavy, irritated sigh, his eyes drawn back to the glass case in front of him. He had to return to Hanzo and help him, yet the stranger’s words niggled in his mind. He shook his head, pushing them away.

 

_Prioritise,_ he thought to himself, and wiped away the dust on the glass case, revealing – unsurprisingly – another pale skull, still white instead of yellowed with age, grinning up at Jesse with empty eyes and a sharp smile. Jesse shuddered, staring at the skull, trying to figure out why this one had been brought to his attention, when something about it caught his eye, and he blinked, studying the skull. Its teeth formed two neat rows, one on top of the other, except unlike the first skull he saw, this one had two long, tapered canines curving down over the bottom row.

 

Dhampire.

 

_He wanted Gabriel. He wanted to experiment on him, said a dhampir was perfect for his “research”._

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jesse muttered.

 

*

 

Hanzo summoned a fire ball in his hand, the flames licking up his wrist to the dragon’s mouth, as if it were breathing the fire into his palm. He launched it at the headless shooter, dodging another round of shots aimed at him, rolling in the air and retreating out of range of his shotguns. Keeping one eye on him, Hanzo scanned the rooftops for Jesse, his disappearance stretching on and spiking concern in Hanzo. He had to finish the fight quickly and find Jesse.

 

His attention returned to the figure as he prowled the rooftop below Hanzo, brushing through the fire as if it wasn’t there. Hanzo couldn’t descend to fight him hand to hand, his shotguns seemingly never requiring reloading no matter how many times he shot him, and he had no obvious weaknesses. Arrows could not pierce his flesh, fire did not burn him, and he did not tire.

 

Hanzo considered his options, which were dwindling fast and he was getting tired after using so much energy in the fight and keeping himself in the air. He couldn’t fully concentrate, not knowing where Jesse was and if he was alright.

 

His thoughts were answered when Jesse’s voice rang through the air, his face appearing at a window down the long stretch of wall to his right as he leaned out of it. He waved at Hanzo to get his attention, something clutched under his arm. Relief washed through Hanzo at the sight of him unharmed, only for it to be replaced with fear a moment later when the headless man caught sight of Jesse, raising his guns and taking aim.

 

“Jesse! Look out!”

 

The blast of the shotguns rang through the air, the wall shattering with the force of the twin shots in a cascade of broken stone and mortar. Dust plumed in the air, cloaking Hanzo’s view. He dived towards the window, catching the headless man out the corner of his eye and narrowly avoiding another shot, spreading his wings and breaking hard in the air. He summoned a spear of fire and hurled it, striking the tiles beneath the headless man’s boots, dislodging them and causing him to lose his footing, skidding down the roof.

 

“Jesse!” Hanzo yelled, scouting the damaged wall and the inner corridor.

 

“Hanzo!” Jesse replied, coughing and spluttering several meters away, and Hanzo dived to where he stood, dropping into the corridor and grabbing Jesse’s shoulders.

 

“Are you alright? What happened?” he demanded, checking him over for injuries. Jesse waved him off, shaking his head as he cleared his throat of dust.

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assured. He wouldn’t meet his eyes, tension running through his shoulders and down his back. Hanzo frowned. He opened his mouth to ask when Jesse cut him off. “I know how to stop him.”

 

“What? How?” Hanzo asked, his brows shooting up in surprise. It was then he got a good look at the object stuffed protectively under Jesse’s arm. He blinked, staring at it. “Is that a –?”

 

“Yeah, it is. More importantly, it’s his,” Jesse replied, holding it up for Hanzo to get a closer look at it. Despite himself, Hanzo recoiled slightly from it. “We have to put it back.”

 

“I… How?”

 

Jesse shrugged. “I’m still trying to figure that one out, but what if we – Hanzo!”

 

He grabbed Hanzo’s jacket, pulling him back as the headless man climbed in through the hole in the wall and turned towards them, shaking the dust and grime from his shoulders. Even without his head, Hanzo got the strong impression he was angry with them. His joints clicked as he rolled his shoulders, the buckles decorating his clothes clinking together heavily as he approached them in a slow, relentless prowl.

 

Hanzo and Jesse stared at him, retreating down the corridor.

 

“I suggest you figure something out quickly,” Hanzo said. He wiped his brow of sweat, his chest heaving with the exertion of drawing on his fire, his skin flushed and hot to the touch. His tattoo itched, the irritating prickle running deep in the muscles of his arm. He flexed his hands, wincing at the pins and needles that started to creep up his arms.

 

Jesse swallowed, looking between the skull in his hands and the headless man approaching. He slid into stance, holding the skull in one hand and drawing it back, before he threw it with all his strength at its owner.

 

They both watched as it sailed through the air between them. It arced high, descending on the headless man where he had stopped mid step, as if sensing the return of his head. It spun as it dropped, the jaw rattling against the facial bones, before the skull thumped against his chest, and clattered to the floor at his feet. It sat there, staring up at them, mocking them with its rictus grin.

 

Hanzo slowly turned his head, fixing Jesse with an unimpressed glare.

 

Jesse grimaced apologetically. “I panicked.”

 

“Clearly.”

 

The headless man moved, and they both reacted, jumping to the side as he lunged at them. Hanzo ran and dropped to his knees, skidding across the ground around the shooter to slip behind him. He grabbed the skull on his way, holding it tight in his hands. He jumped to his feet and pivoted, facing the headless man’s back as he advanced on Jesse.

 

“Uh, Hanzo.” Jesse retreated swiftly, stumbling over his feet. “ _Hanzo_.”

 

Hanzo ran and leapt onto the man’s back, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while the other clung tightly to the skull. The headless man stumbled under his weight, twisting his body to dislodge Hanzo. Hanzo held on, bracing himself against the violent shaking. The shotguns clattered to the floor, discarded, and the headless man reached over his shoulders to grab at Hanzo, pulling at his _Gi_ and hair. Hanzo grunted in pain, wrapping his legs around the man’s waist and holding tighter, the skull trapped between their bodies.

 

“Hanzo, drop the skull!” Jesse said, darting forward.

 

Hanzo nodded, jolted by another round of shaking and twisting, gritting his teeth to stop the jarring sensation rattling through his own skull. He braced himself against the headless man, and was flung forward when he doubled over, his shoulder digging into Hanzo’s stomach. Hanzo grunted, winded. He huffed a pained breath, still holding on to the headless man as he shifted, getting his arm free from being crushed between them and tossed the skull away.

 

Jesse snatched it from mid-air, rushing towards them. He held it in both hands, reaching up to the headless man’s neck to replace it.

 

The headless man turned away, twisting his body and swinging Hanzo around. He collided with Jesse with a grunt, sending him stumbling into the wall. Straightening, the headless man slammed Hanzo back into the wall behind him, knocking his head against the wall. Once, twice. Still Hanzo held on, hooking his elbows under the man’s armpits and pulling them back, trapping his arms away from his body. He clasped his hands at the back of the man’s neck, pushing down and away, towards Jesse, who had righted himself and was approaching once more.

 

“Quickly, Jesse! Quickly!” Hanzo ordered, and Jesse ran towards them, his hands stretched out with the skull held between them. The headless man shook himself once again. Hanzo was ready for him, tightening his hold around his waist and tensing his arms, pulling his arms further back at an angle. The headless man bowed forward, and Jesse thrust the skull into place on top of his neck.

 

There was a loud _hiss_ , like plunging hot metal into iced water, and then a deep, rumbling groan. The headless man shuddered, his limbs jerking wildly in all directions.

 

He staggered to the side, the skull twitching and shaking atop his body, the jaw chattering against his face. Falling to his knees, he writhed, and Hanzo finally released his hold, stumbling away to Jesse’s side.

 

Jesse clutched his hand, holding it tight as they both watched with a mixture of horror and awe as sinew and muscles began to creep up over the pale white skull. Veins and arteries crawled like climbing vines along the thread of the deep red muscle, pulsing with blood. Dark brown skin bloomed across the stretches of tissue, and curls of pitch black hair sprung from the scalp, hair of a similar colour neatly framing the man’s chin and upper lip. Finally, the man stopped twitching, and lay still in the centre of the corridor.

 

Jesse and Hanzo stared at him in silence. They glanced at each other, and Jesse swallowed.

 

“Do you think he’s… okay?”

 

Hanzo shrugged. He released Jesse’s hand after a brief, reassuring squeeze, and cautiously approached the man. Kneeling down beside him, he reached out to check for a pulse, when his dark brown eyes snapped open, and Hanzo recoiled.

 

The man swung up with a snarl, baring the sharp, tapering teeth of a dhampire and lunged for Hanzo.

 

Hanzo dodged him, and threw himself forward, headbutting him squarely in the nose. The man yelled in pain, and crashed back onto the floor, clutching his nose.

 

“Son of a _bitch_!” he cursed.

 

Hanzo pulled himself to his feet, standing over him with a scowl. Jesse appeared at his side defensively, his hands curled into fists.

 

“My mother was no such thing,” Hanzo replied coolly. “Although the subject of yours in certainly questionable, given you attacked us unprovoked, and then once again attacked us when we have aided you.”

 

The man glared up at Hanzo, still clutching his nose. He grunted, and pushed himself up onto one elbow.

 

Hanzo took a small step back, his eyes never leaving the man. He coaxed Jesse back with him, and raised one arm in front of him, forming a barrier between Jesse and the man.

 

He didn’t seem interested in them, however, studying the smashed corridor around them and seeking out his shotguns. He pulled the closest one towards him, and Hanzo slid into a fighting stance, ready for him. The dhampire paid no attention, evidently no longer interested in a fight, and drew his hand away from his nose, looking for blood. Pulling himself up into a seated position and slinging his arm over his knee to rest it there, he finally looked up at them, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

 

“So, who the fuck are you?” he demanded. The shotgun hung loose and relaxed down the length of his leg, pointed to the floor, but Hanzo remained wary of it all the same.

 

“Jesse. Hanzo,” Jesse replied, pointing to them in turn. “You’re Gabriel, aren’t you?”

 

Even Hanzo couldn’t contain his surprise, both he and the man jerking visibly and staring at Jesse.

 

“How do you know my name?” Gabriel growled, pushing himself to his feet. His grip tightened on his gun, but he did not raise it.

 

Hanzo stepped back again, pushing Jesse behind him. Gabriel was taller and broader than both of them, and a dhampire as well. Hanzo had not come across one in years, and while the last encounter had been favourable for him, he was weakened by the fight and almost completely drained of energy to summon any fire or magic.

 

“Do you know a guy named “Jack”?” Jesse asked, his fingers curling over Hanzo’s shoulder as he leaned forward, staring at Gabriel. “Well, he calls himself Jack. He’s an Immortal, says he used to go with a dhampire named Gabriel and –”

 

“Jack!” Gabriel breathed, his whole face softening at the sound of his name. His eyes quickly hardened, staring at Hanzo and Jesse. “How do you know Jack? Where is he? What happened to him? If either of you have done anything to him, I’ll –”

 

“Stop!” Hanzo ordered, his free arm raised to halt Gabriel’s approach. “We have just returned your head after it was stolen from you by Faust. Do you really think we would be responsible for anything that has happened to your friend in the time he has spent in this castle?”

 

“He’s not my friend!” Gabriel snarled. “He’s my… He’s my…”

 

His face momentarily crumbled, and raised one hand, shielding his face from Hanzo and Jesse. Hanzo felt a brief stab of sympathy for him, but it was buried under the impatient desire to bid farewell to Gabriel and be on his way to find Genji.

 

“Is he alive?” Gabriel asked, his voice thick with emotion.

 

Hanzo cocked his eyebrow, tilting his head to the side as he made an educated guess. “Can’t dhampire’s sense their mate no matter where they are?”

 

“You try using all your mental abilities after having your head shoved back on after fuck knows how long,” Gabriel snapped.

 

Hanzo conceded. A fair point.

 

“He’s alive,” Jesse replied. “The last time we saw him. He’s trying to get out of the castle, he thinks you’re dead.”

 

“He gave us this, in return for us helping him,” Hanzo said, reaching into his pockets and withdrawing the compass. He held it up by the long leather strap attached to it, the compass box spinning on the end lazily between them.

 

Gabriel stared at it, half hypnotised. He reached out to touch it, aborting the motion half way and letting his arm drop to his side again. He rubbed his hand across his face, pushing his fingers through his hair. His eyes slid from it to study Jesse and Hanzo, suspicion returning to them.

 

“How do I know you’re not lying, and you stole that from him after killing him?” he asked.

 

“Do I look like someone who knows how to kill an Immortal?” Hanzo countered.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’m flattered.”

 

“Look, he’s alive,” Jesse repeated, interrupting their glaring match. “He gave us the compass ‘cause he said he only desired one thing, and he was sure that one thing was dead. Which, y’know, was you.”

 

A small smile curled at the corner of Gabriel’s lips hearing that, shaking his head. He sighed, his shoulders sagging as his entire intimidating demeanour dissipated. He looked at them both, a considering look on his face. “I suppose, I should thank you, too. Being one of Faust’s wandering guard sucked.”

 

“Try being one of his ingredients,” Jesse replied. Gabriel turned his gaze to him, a sad, apologetic look on his face.

 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, kid,” he said. “You should be high tailing it out of here.”

 

“I would, but…” Jesse raised his chin, exposing the collar around his neck. Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the sigils, baring his teeth in disgust.

 

“Son of a bitch.”

 

“I’ll be out in no time, though,” Jesse reassured. He patted Hanzo on the shoulder, a little too hard, and Hanzo glanced over his shoulder at him questioningly. Jesse didn’t look at him, his eyes deliberately focused straight ahead on Gabriel. Hanzo frowned, his brow furrowing. Something was wrong.

 

“Once we find Hanzo’s brother, we’ll find a way to get me out of this collar and we can all carry on our own business,” he drawled. “Ain’t that right, Hanzo?”

 

He finally turned to look at Hanzo, a smile on his face. It didn’t reach his eyes.

 

“Yes. That was our agreement,” Hanzo said slowly, after a pause. He stepped away from Jesse and turned back to Gabriel, the weight of Jesse’s hand on his shoulder and the warmth of him at Hanzo’s back disappearing, leaving him colder than before. He ignored it, clearing his throat. “We must continue on to find my brother. Jack gave us this compass in order to aid us. I would ask to keep it, and return it to him at a later time when it is safe to do so. However, he only gave it to us under the belief that you were dead. To keep it would be selfish and dishonourable.”

 

He held it out between them in the palm of his hand, awaiting Gabriel’s answer.

 

Gabriel stared at it, stroking his goatee. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t know the way straight to Faust’s laboratory, which is likely where he’d be holding your brother if he’s a new catch. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, it is alright,” Hanzo replied, crestfallen. The compass was useful, but they could only travel so quickly, especially with Jesse in the condition he was in, and now Hanzo had been weakened in the fight with Gabriel. It was not his fault, his life trapped by Faust and the damn castle, but Hanzo couldn’t swallow the bitter taste in his mouth.

 

He sighed, and held the compass out for Gabriel to take. “Even so, Jack only gave us the compass because he believed he had no more use for it. Now that we have discovered that is untrue, it is not right that we keep it.”

 

Gabriel frowned, staring solemnly at it. He reached out, hesitating. “Are you sure?”

 

Hanzo nodded, feeling his heart sink at the thought of losing his quickest way to Genji, and swallowed drily. “Yes. I am sure.”

  

Gabriel closed his hand around the compass, plucking it from Hanzo’s hand, and nodded. “Thank you.”

 

Hanzo didn’t trust himself to speak, and simply nodded in return.

 

“I hope your brother’s okay,” Gabriel continued, before he turned his attention to Jesse. “You take care of yourself, kid. Be careful, Faust has more of his failed experiments lying around playing guard.”

 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Jesse replied. He reached out and shook Gabriel’s hand. “We’ll keep an eye out.”

 

They bid each other goodbye, and Gabriel followed the compass down the corridor out of sight. Hanzo watched him go, his heart sinking further in his chest as he turned back to Jesse, a solemn look on his face mirrored by Jesse’s own.

 

“Well, it seems I have you to guide me once again.”

 

“It seems you do,” Jesse replied reluctantly, unable to meet Hanzo’s eyes. Hanzo pursed his lips, trying to decipher what was going through Jesse’s head, his nagging suspicions rearing once again, exhaustion and weariness making them a shout rather than a whisper, his aching bones and bruised muscles warring with his unrelenting need to find Genji and get him home safe. If he still could.

 

“Lead the way, then.”


	6. XVIII The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XVIII. The Moon  
> Something in your life is not what it seems. Perhaps a misunderstanding on your part, or a truth you cannot admit to yourself. It may also indicate something important being kept from you by another.

They headed through the corridor away from the open gaps in the walls and the drafts of the outside, deeper into the castle. They came across a large open hall with two sets of imperial staircases at either side, the twin sets of stairs curving around and up onto a narrow floor, before a single staircase led up into the corridor beyond. Jesse led them down into the mirrored room, their reflections following them as they walked across the dark patterned floor, Hanzo trailing close behind.

 

They had been silent since they departed from Gabriel, keeping a short distance away from each other as they walked, the tension slowly building in the air between them. Hanzo sensed there was something on Jesse’s mind that he wasn’t saying, and the longer the silence stretched on, the more agitated he became. Still, he said nothing, their footsteps echoing through the hall and bouncing off the mirrors.

 

Jesse cleared his throat, and Hanzo cocked his head to the side, his gaze falling on Jesse’s profile.

 

“Yes?” he asked.

 

“Hm? Oh, no, nothing,” Jesse stammered quickly, shaking his head. “That wasn’t a – I wasn’t actually gonna say anything, I was just… just clearing my throat.”

 

“Hn. I see.” Hanzo continued across the hall, overtaking Jesse as he slowed, eventually coming to a stop in the middle of the hall. Hanzo saw his reflection in one of the ceiling high mirrors lining the room, and slowed as well, turning to face him. “Something wrong, Jesse?”

 

Jesse clicked his tongue against his teeth, scratching a hand through his hair before he dropped his hands to his hips.

 

“Is there a way to get me outta this collar?” he asked, finally looking up to meet Hanzo’s eyes.

 

Hanzo blinked, clenching his jaw. “I will find you a way out of that collar once you lead me to Faust and I get my brother back. That was our agreement.”

 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean there’s another way,” Jesse replied, slowly approaching Hanzo. Hanzo shifted, stepping to the side, and they began to circle each other. “You may well intend to hold up your end of the bargain _after_ you’ve gotten everything _you_ want, but that doesn’t mean there was another way around this –”

 

He tapped the collar with his nail.

 

“— from the very beginning.”

 

“Jesse, I do not have time to argue with you,” Hanzo said slowly.

 

“Just answer my question, and we can be on our way.”

 

Hanzo folded his arms across his chest, coming to a stop and facing Jesse, looking him over. “Yes, there is.”

 

The silence stretched between them, cold and eerie in the vast empty hall.

 

“Son of a bitch!”

 

“I’ve been called that twice today, it is no more endearing to me the second time,” Hanzo replied.

 

“You’ve had me trapped in this collar the whole time when you had a way to open it!” Jesse snarled, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his dark eyes blazing.

 

“What if I did?” Hanzo shot back. “You will be out of the collar by the end of the day no matter what.”

 

“You lied to me! I could’ve been free by now!”

 

“Yes, and ran away when you were, despite your promise,” Hanzo accused. “Although perhaps your supposed knowledge of the castle is not as extensive as you said.”

 

Jesse jerked back, as if slapped. His gaze fell to the floor, shame flickering across his face briefly. Hanzo scowled, his suspicions rearing up full force.

 

“You have no knowledge of this castle, do you?” he asked quietly.

 

Jesse swallowed, and said nothing.

 

Hanzo growled deep in his throat, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “You have been wasting my time since the moment I found you! You accuse me of lying, but I had every intention of fulfilling my end of our deal. You, you just wanted a way out of your shackles and to run away, with no intention of helping me!”

 

“Can you blame me?” Jesse shouted. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, what he’s done to me! Do you really think I’d willingly walk right back up to him and his laboratory just because someone asked? You wouldn't have even offered to help me if I hadn't lied to you!”

 

“Even if it was to save another?” Hanzo asked coldly.

 

“Yeah, I get it. You need to save your brother, that’s the only thing you care about,” Jesse argued, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t have stopped to help me or Jack or Gabe or anyone who you came across if it stood between you and your brother. You would have let us all rot.”

 

“That is not true!”

 

“Who’re you kidding?” Jesse scoffed, turning away from Hanzo. He swallowed, his anger wavering. His face crumpled for a moment before he shook his head, rubbing his hand down his face. He seemed to fold in on himself, as if the anger and sadness required too much energy to hold onto. “Yeah, fine, I admit it. I lied. I wanted to get as far away from this miserable place and never come back. Is that what you want to hear?”

 

“No! I want to hear that my brother is alive and well, and that Faust is here so I can kill him!” Hanzo snarled.

 

His admission rang through the air, and Jesse snapped his head up in disbelief.

 

“You what?”

 

“I am going to kill Faust. He kidnapped a Dracona of Storm’s Peak, that is unforgiveable,” Hanzo replied. “He will die for his crimes.”

 

“You can’t kill him, it’s impossible,” Jesse said, fear replacing the anger and disbelief.

 

“Not for me,” Hanzo assured.

 

“Hanzo, listen to me,” Jesse pleaded, closing the distance between them. “He can’t be killed. I know, I’ve tried!”

 

Hanzo cocked his head to the side. “How?”

 

“I stabbed him through the heart once, when I managed to free my arm one time. He just pulled it out and carried on as normal, and another time I tried… I…” he trailed off, his fingers reaching up and brushing the corner of his eye. Hanzo followed the movement, recalling the brief red flare that had replaced the brown in his eyes after the chronomoriae attacked them.

 

He waited for Jesse to explain, but he said nothing more, lost in his own thoughts. Reaching up, he gently placed a hand on Jesse’s shoulder, snapping him out of his haze. Jesse dropped his hand from his face, blinking to clear his eyes, and met Hanzo’s gaze warily.

 

“You lied to me, and delayed me in my search for my brother,” Hanzo began, tightening his grip slightly when Jesse flinched and attempted to back away. “While I intended to follow through with my promise to you, I admit I did not offer my help with total honesty.”

 

He paused, considering his next words. He sighed, the words heavy with weariness and resignation. “As it stands, you have nothing to aid me on my search, and you are slowing me down. You are not at your healthiest or strongest, and you would be in danger should it lead to a fight.”

 

“Hanzo, wait, what’re you--?”

 

“I am still honour bound to my promise,” Hanzo continued, as if Jesse had not spoken. “So, I will say this: I will give you the gift of a dragon scale, so that your greatest desire may be yours, and you can be rid of the collar. You can escape through the hallway with the collapsed walls into the outside, and take yourself as far away as you can. Despite your lies, I agree I do not know what you have been through or the horrors you have faced. It was unfair of me to ask you to walk head on into them. I hold no ill will towards you from hence forth, and we may part civilly. Is that a fair agreement to you?”

 

“You… You’re just gonna let me go?” Jesse asked. “Just like that? Even though I haven’t… even though I lied and led you ‘round in circles and slowed you down?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It is the right thing to do,” Hanzo replied. He hoped Jesse would make it out safe, at the very least. “Now, are we in agreement?”

 

He took Jesse’s silence for an agreement, and dropped his hand from his shoulder. He reached up under his collar, his claws finding a suitable scale to give to Jesse –

 

—The ground jarred under their feet, sending them stumbling into one another. Hanzo grabbed Jesse instinctively to steady him, Jesse clinging to Hanzo in the same manner as they regained their footing, looking around them as the mirrors began to shift, sliding along the walls like they were on a conveyor belt.

 

“Look out!” Hanzo warned, pulling Jesse away as one of the mirrors broke free from the wall, travelling along the deep rails set in the floor that Hanzo had initially mistaken for the pattern on the floor. It rattled past them, a brief glimpse of their reflections displaying two haggard, wide eyed men before it rolled away.

 

“What’s going on?” Jesse asked fearfully, clutching Hanzo’s hand.

 

“I do not know, another trick of this damn castle,” Hanzo said, squeezing Jesse’s hand and pulling him forward towards the staircase ahead of them. “Come on, we must get out of here!”

 

They ran for the staircase as more mirrors shuddered away from the walls, rolling along the rails set in the floor at increasing speeds. Hanzo and Jesse dodged and wove their way around them in a wild dance of frantic, erratic steps, forced back when several mirrors would slam together into a wall of glass, blocking their way forward.

 

“Come on,” Hanzo ordered, running around them and making a dash for the stairs when he stopped short. Jesse crashed into him, pushing him forward, and backed away just as quick, looking over Hanzo’s shoulder.

 

“What is it? What’s – oh no…”

 

At the top of the stairs stood a great, hulking man with a mask covering his face, holding a sickle and chain in one of his large, beefy hands. He began to slowly descend the stairs, the chain on his hook slipping between his fingers with a rattling clank. Hanzo and Jesse backed away, the mirrors swinging around them, reflections bouncing back and forth as they passed each other, sending the room into a mass replica of itself.

 

“I’m getting tired of these guards,” Hanzo growled, and gripped Jesse’s hand as the guard reached the floor. “Come on.”

 

They ran between the mirrors, hiding themselves behind them as the guard approached, swinging his razor-edged hook. It bounced off the mirrors as it swung, shaking the glass but did not break them as he walked deeper and deeper into the mass of moving mirrors.

 

Hanzo and Jesse jumped between two, and Jesse grabbed Hanzo’s shoulder. “Hanzo, there!”

 

The guard stood two mirrors down, and he hurled his hook at them. They ducked, the hook slamming into the mirror behind them with a loud, heavy ring, like a church bell. They flew forward, dashing between mirrors, their reflections following them at multiple angles. The guard followed them too: behind them, in front of them, to the side, the mirrors causing a frantic dance between the three, unable to pinpoint where he would be next.

 

Another set of mirrors slammed in front of them, forcing them to stop, and they spun around as the hook flew towards their heads again. Hanzo pulled Jesse to the side, running down an opening in the mirrors towards the side of the room. Panting, they took a moment to catch their breath, Hanzo surveying the room to check where the guard would be next.

 

“We’re going around in circles,” Jesse gasped, clutching his side as a stitch formed. “We need to get away from him.”

 

“Do you have a plan to do so?”

 

“He’s one of the guards who would sometimes come take me from my cage,” Jesse explained. “He wasn’t the worst of the bunch, but he does have a weird thing on his back that connects to the screws in his neck.”

 

“You think whatever is on his back allows Faust to control him?” Hanzo asked.

 

“It would be my guess.”

 

“Very well, then we need to knock those screws on his neck,” Hanzo said. “Perhaps we should try to get around him and attack him from behind.”

 

“We could split up,” Jesse suggested. Hanzo looked at him, and Jesse shrugged. “He can’t throw his hook at both of us.”

 

Hanzo nodded, disliking the idea but having no choice, and they each took a path through the mirrors, seeking out the guard this time. Hanzo listened for him closely, the rattling of the rails bouncing off the walls and the other mirrors, reflections shifting and changing and warping the room. He darted between them, his bow at the ready, when Jesse yelled from far to his left, and he took off, dodging around mirrors and leaping across the rails.

 

He rounded a mirror to see the guard advancing on Jesse, his hook swinging at his side. Hanzo drew back his bowstring, loosing an arrow at the bolt on the guard’s neck. It skimmed past his ear, and the guard turned, the element of surprise lost as Hanzo now faced him.

 

He drew another arrow, alighting it with fire from his limited reserves and drawing it back. He was surprised, then, when Jesse yelled a battle cry and jumped on the guard’s back, barely managing to hook his arms around his neck. The guard grunted, shaking his shoulders in irritation, and Hanzo lowered his bow, unable to fire unless he shot Jesse by mistake.

 

He shouldered his bow, and dove forward, headbutting the guard under the chin.

 

The guard stumbled back, bumping into the mirror behind him and squashing Jesse between his bulk and the mirror.

 

Jesse grunted in pain, and held on tighter, blindly grappling for the bolt on the guard’s neck. The guard staggered, trying to dislodge Jesse from his back as Hanzo circled him, striking his ribs and sides, trying to bring him down.

 

He wrapped his tail around the guard’s ankle, pulling. The guard didn’t budge, Hanzo’s tail twinging in pain under the strain.

 

With a grunt, the guard took up the hook in his hand and swung it in a wide, curving arc, forcing Hanzo to jump back, a mirror striking him in the side and sent him sprawling to the side, rolling across the floor into the path of another mirror.

 

He cursed, pulling himself up in time before two mirrors narrowly scraped by each other where his neck had been.

 

Advancing on the guard, he ducked and dodged the wild swings of his hook, Jesse clamouring up his back and wrapping one arm around his head, covering his eyes. Blinded, the guard growled angrily, doubling his efforts to shake Jesse off. Hanzo hurried forward, when a bang drew his attention to the far side of the room, where a mirror slammed into place, half way down the hall.

 

To his left, another mirror did the same, marking the centre of the hall. A second mirror slotted into place next it. Then another. Then another, forming a wall splitting the hall in half.

 

“Shit,” Hanzo cursed, barrelling towards the guard and Jesse.

 

“Hanzo! I don’t know how this works! I can’t get it off!” Jesse called.

 

“Jesse! Get off his back!” Hanzo called, his eyes drawn to the wall of mirrors growing between them.

 

Jesse nodded, releasing the bold on the guard’s neck.

 

The guard reached up and grabbed him by his hair, pulling him halfway off his shoulders.

 

“NO!” Hanzo yelled, fire blooming in his fists, as the guard tossed Jesse aside, sending him skidding across the floor.

 

With a yell, Hanzo leapt into the air, drawing his fist back. The guard looked up just as Hanzo brought his fist down against his neck, above the bolt.

 

There was a crack, and a grunt from the guard. Electricity sparked around the bolt, the small mechanism on but back fritzing and fizzing. The guard stumbled, twitching, and Hanzo kicked him in the stomach, repeating the motion to his face as he doubled over.

 

He fell with a thump, his hook skidding from his hand. Hanzo kicked it away, and looked up, his eyes searching out Jesse.

 

“Jesse!” he called, spotting him a few feet away, nursing his head. The mirrors closed in, clanking and slamming into place. Hanzo sprinted forward, his eyes following the mirrors on both sides, reaching out for Jesse.

 

“Jesse!”

 

Jesse looked up at Hanzo, and the mirrors slammed shut between them, Jesse’s face disappearing behind them. Hanzo collided with the mirrors, his fists banging on their surface. They rippled under the force of his strikes, but did not break, nor did they move, a long line of them cutting the room in half, leaving Jesse on one side and Hanzo on the other.

 

“No! No, no, no, no!” he cursed, looking back and forth between each side of the room. The mirrors had no gaps or breaks in them, a solid wall of glass standing between him and Jesse. Across from him, the guard grunted, rubbing his head and sitting up, searching for his hook. Hanzo lunged away from the mirrors, stepping out of the guard’s line of sight and seeking a hiding spot. There were only the stairs ahead of him, and a pillar to his right. He quickly walked towards it, when the guard roared in anger, and Hanzo turned around, watching him getting to his feet and catching sight of Hanzo.

 

Hanzo stood firm, staring down the guard as he lunged for him with a bellow, charging full speed. He swung into a fighting stance, bringing his fists up to protect himself. He braced for the guard to descend upon him, easily half his size, waiting for the last possible second.

 

“Oof!” the guard yelped, his head smacking into a mirror at full speed. He stumbled back, groaning, and Hanzo stepped out from the other side of the pillar behind him, charging. Leaping into the air, he pivoted, and kicked the other bolt at the side of the guard’s neck, knocking out the signal from the mechanism on his back. The guard listed sideways, struggling to stand.

 

Hanzo followed him, his tail whipping round and slamming into the back of his knees, bringing him to the floor. Circling him, he came to a stop in front of his masked face, and the guard lifted his rolling head, looking up at Hanzo through his narrow eye sockets.

 

“My apologies,” Hanzo said, and kicked him in the face, knocking him out.

 

The guard fell back with a groan, the ground shuddering as he collapsed onto his back. Silence descended on the room, broken only by Hanzo’s wheezing, tired breaths. He straightened, pushing his hair back from his face and clutching at his ribs, before his gaze fell on the wall of mirrors that had separated him from Jesse, and ran towards them.

 

“Jesse? Jesse! Jesse, are you there? Can you hear me?” Hanzo yelled, banging on the mirror. “Jesse!”

 

He drew his fist back and slammed it against the glass as hard as he could, but it merely reverberated under the force of it, the surface remaining intact. He stepped back, looking around for a way through the wall of mirrors separating them, and saw none. He clenched and unclenched his fists, panting heavily. “Damn this castle! Damn it to hell!”

 

He whipped around, his eyes falling on the unconscious, masked experiment beside him. Dropping to his knees, he deftly searched the numerous pockets on his person, looking for anything that could break the mirrors. There was mostly small pocket tools and odd bits and pieces, screws and cogs and nails. There were empty canisters of some kind of aerosol drug, and Hanzo carefully placed them out of the way, keeping his face turned away from them, and continued his search when his fingers wrapped around something that made him stop short, his breath caught in his throat.

 

Thinking the impossible, Hanzo drew it from the confines of the guard’s pocket, and stared down in disbelief at the small stub of a candle, its wax a marbled dark blue rippled with silver and gold, a black wick sprouting from the tip.

 

A Babylon candle.

 

A rarity worth thrice their weight in gold, the secrets to making them so closely guarded only a dozen or so people knew the ingredients and had the magical ability to make one. The chances of seeing one were slim, and yet the guard was just carrying one around in his pocket. Had he even known what he had been carrying?

 

It hardly mattered now, now that it was in Hanzo’s hands.

 

He stood, almost giddy: he had the chance to travel anywhere, to anyone, with a single thought. He could find McCree, give him a dragon scale to remove the collar, and get them to Genji and –

 

\-- He stopped, staring at what remained of the candle in his hand. If he lit it, there would only be enough for one journey.

 

He looked at the mirrors, his own reflection staring back at him with indecision. Jesse didn’t know the way, his promise a lie for no purpose other than to use Hanzo to free him and flee from the castle, but Hanzo had sworn to help him remove the collar from his neck. Even if it had been in exchange for a lie, he still felt honour bound to complete his side of their deal.

 

And he wanted to make sure Jesse was safe.

 

Admitting it to himself wasn’t as difficult as he thought it might have been, but from the moment he had seen him trapped in the cage, he had wanted to help him. Despite Jesse’s accusations, Hanzo _did_ care. He would never have left any of Faust’s prisoners remain trapped in this awful place once he had been rid of Faust, but Genji would always be his priority. He had to make sure he was safe, first. Knowing that, the realisation of his choice still hurt, and he closed his eyes in resignation, turning away from his reflection. Clutching the candle in his hands, he bowed his head, thumping it against his closed fist. He stood, unmoving, for several long moments, before he straightened.

 

“I am sorry, Jesse,” he said quietly into the silence of the room, and lit the candle.


	7. XV The Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XV. The Devil  
> The Devil is in the business of entrapment. It represents being seduced by the material world and physical pleasures; an obsession with money and power. It signifies a situation from which there is no escape, or a road leading to one.

Hanzo opened his eyes, the flame burning out as the last of the wax melted in his hand, and looked around. He stood in the centre of what was no doubt the laboratory. Long stone slab tables with straps on the sides and at the bottom lined the room, the walls stacked high with wooden shelves holding a variety of bottles, vials, tubes, books, and papers. Lanterns hung from hooks in the back wall, casting an eerie light over the room. Cables and wires hung in heavy loops from the ceiling, electricity humming and sizzling in the background. Electrodes and rods sprung from complex machines, a fire set in another wall with a large chimney crackled and popped the wood stoked in it. Large, heavy cauldrons were pushed into a corner, piled high on each other and gathering dust.

 

Hanzo’s eyes fell on the opening at the other end of the room: the closed, bolted door close by was more likely the entrance and exit to the laboratory. The one that caught Hanzo’s eye had no door, and he could hear the dull creak of chains and the hushed murmur of voices beyond it. Genji had to be in there.

 

He drew his bow, nocking an arrow and crept along the row of tables, tasting bile in his throat at the sight of the conspicuous stains seeped into the cracks and crevices of the stone. He hurried past them, his eyes and ears straining for any movement or sign of a trap, but the room was silent beyond the crackling of the fire and the hum of electricity. He reached the entrance to the extension beyond the main lab, pressing his back against the wall, and carefully peered around the corner into the other room.

 

His jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock.

 

Down the long expanse of the room, cages and cells lined the walls, and hung from the ceiling on long, heavy chains. Some were empty, but some weren’t, and all had been modified or reinforced by sigils in some way to prevent their occupants escaping. Most were asleep, or at least pretending to sleep, curled up at the back of their cells.

 

Keeping low, he checked over his shoulder before he slipped in the cell holdings, creeping along the room. He inspected every occupied cage, searching for Genji.

 

He passed a solid glass cell filled with water, and paused when the occupant swam into view: a dark-skinned young man with heavy dreadlocks and a long, flowing green tail that shimmered like jewels. They stared at each other, the gills on the side of the young man’s neck flapping rapidly with his breathing. Hanzo lowered his bow, raising his hand in truce, hoping the merman would understand him.

 

It seemed he did, nodding and raising his finger to his lips.

 

Hanzo nodded, and continued on, the occupants of the cells noticing his presence as he searched for Genji. A fiery, horned drake – a cousin race to his – with one arm missing shivered in her cage, her golden eyes glaring at Hanzo as he passed by. There were fairies trapped in bottles, an alchemist bound in chains, and – perhaps more heart breaking than the others – even a forest spirit wilting in the corner of her cage. No wonder the surrounding lands were dead.

 

Each raised their heads and watched him pass, some creeping closer to the front of their cells, others merely watching in curiosity and trepidation. The further he went down the length of cells, the more frantic he became, until he was quietly calling out Genji’s name, looking in each of the cells, even the seemingly empty ones. He tried to push down the rising panic in his chest, his heart beating rapidly as the fear took hold, until…

 

“Hanzo?” a bleary, scratchy voice called out from ahead, and Hanzo snapped his head up, seeking out the source of the familiar voice.

 

“Genji?” he called, hurrying forward. “Genji, where are you?”

 

“Hanzo!” Genji called again, and Hanzo saw a figure shift in one of the lower hanging cages, the floor of it at eye level to Hanzo. Inside, Genji pushed himself up from the floor, his tail and wings uncurling from his body as he stared out the bars at Hanzo. Younger than Hanzo, his horns hadn’t fully developed, nor had his scales hardened to form a protective armour, leaving him vulnerable to harm, especially when his abilities hadn’t fully manifested. Relief brought tears to his eyes, a lump forming in his throat at the sight of Genji, alive and unharmed.

 

“Genji!” Hanzo ran forward, lowering Stormbow to his side and reaching out, stretching his hand through the bars. Genji’s eyes filled with tears as he clasped Hanzo’s hand, clutching it tight in both hands, bending his head to try hiding his sniffling and hiccupping.

 

“Genji, don’t cry,” Hanzo soothed. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out.”

 

“I’m not crying,” Genji lied, hastily wiping his cheeks against his shoulder. Despite himself and the situation they were in, Hanzo smiled, running his thumb over the back of Genji’s knuckles to calm him just as their mother would do when they had been young.

 

"You look terrible, brother," Genji commented. Hanzo huffed, rolling eyes.

 

"It has been a trying day."

 

“I’m sorry,” Genji said, wiping his eyes. “I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have gone so far.”

 

“You shouldn’t have,” Hanzo agreed solemnly, slipping into the stern elder brother role easily. “But that is not important now. All that matters is that you are safe and well. Has he done anything to you?”

 

Genji shook his head, pressing his face against the cage bars. “No, he shoved me in this cage and left me here. I haven’t seen him since. I was frightened at first, but Zenyatta has been helping keep me calm until you came for me. I knew you would,” he added hastily. “It was just scary not knowing when or if Faust would get you too.”

 

“Of course, I would come for you,” Hanzo replied. “I would never abandon you.”

 

Genji nodded, then laughed quietly. “Except that one time. You got so mad you walked out and didn’t come back for like three days or something.”

 

Hanzo flinched, his encounter with the chronomoriae still raw. He swallowed thickly, details he had thought long forgotten now a painting a stark picture in his mind. He breathed deeply through his nose, forcing the memory back, concentrating on how they were in the present, that he did not abandon Genji, that he sought him out through the depths of the castle. He opened his eyes, calmed. “That is my worst memory. I am sorry I did that to you, I could never forgive myself for upsetting you like that.”

 

Genji shrugged, smiling. “Don’t worry about it, I forgave you, and you only did it once.”

 

_That’s not what it felt like_. Hanzo decided to forgo mentioning the chronomoriae, and nodded. “As you say. Now, who’s Zenyatta?”

 

Something in the cell to his left shifted, stepping – no, floating – into the light, and Hanzo stared as the occupant revealed himself. He was dressed in black hooded robes, a long loin cloth of with black and green decal hanging from a chained belt over his loose, billowing pants. An amulet of an eye hung from his neck, hidden among the purple tentacles that covered the lower half of his face. Around his neck, floated eight glowing orbs, each staring out at him with glowing green eyes. He raised a hand, and waved at Hanzo.

 

“Greetings,” he said simply.

 

Hanzo raised a hand in greeting back, before turning to Genji, giving him a pointed look.

 

“What?” Genji asked.

 

“You’re gone a day and you join a cult?”

 

Genji huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not in a cult.”

 

“He is one of the Monks of the Iris. They seek power through a connection with the Iris.”

 

“Actually, we seek knowledge and enlightenment,” Zenyatta interrupted calmly. “A common mistake based on incorrect information and scaremongering.”

 

“Hn.” Hanzo wasn’t convinced, eyeing the tentacles and the eerie markings on his robes.

 

“He’s nice. I invited him to stay,” Genji added. “He was telling me about all his travels and invited me along if I wanted.”

 

“Absolutely not! And he is not staying with us.”

 

“Ugh, Hanzo, don’t be so rude!”

 

“I am not being rude! You are inviting strangers you just met home,” Hanzo argued. He growled in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We don’t have time to argue. I have to get you out of here.”

 

“Well, I’m not leaving without Zenyatta,” Genji replied, falling back and leaning against the opposite side of the cage, glaring at Hanzo through the bars.

 

“Genji, this is no time to be stubborn!”

 

“I’m not being stubborn.”

 

“You are being stubborn. And childish.”

 

“Am not.”

 

“Genji!”

 

“Genji, your brother has been fearful for your safety and wants you home and well,” Zenyatta interrupted their bickering again, his voice unchanged from the soothing warm tone that he had spoken with to Hanzo. “He is right, you should not sacrifice your freedom over petty grievances.”

 

“You’re not a grievance,” Genji huffed and looked away, his shoulders sagging. The corners of his eyes shone with tears, and he wiped them away before they could fall. Guilt twisted in Hanzo’s chest, and he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

 

“Genji, if you just listen to me instead of trying to jump ahead, you would know I’m going to get everyone out,” he said quietly. Genji looked up, disbelief written across his face.

 

“Really?” he asked.

 

“Yes, really. I plan to dispose of Faust and free everyone, so they cannot be used by him ever again,” he swore. Quiet murmurs rose from the cells behind him, the occupants whispering among themselves as they listened. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at the variety of prisoners. “What does he want with all of you anyway?”

 

“He seeks a way to immortality,” the drake answered, coming to kneel at the door of her cage, wrapping her hand around a metal bar. “He is seeking out those of us with extended lives, thinking our magical abilities hold the key.”

 

“He uses others to become his servants,” the alchemist added. “Those that don’t have strong magical abilities, he turns them into grunts.”

 

“I’ve noticed,” Hanzo replied.

 

“You must be careful,” Zenyatta warned. “He has already immersed himself in the dark arts, trying to combine it with science in his attempts to find the elixir of life.”

 

“He will never find it,” Hanzo promised, turning his attention to Genji. “I will free everyone, and I need your help.”

 

Genji nodded enthusiastically, leaning forward and grabbing the cage bars in both hands, pressing his face against them. “What do you need me to do?”

 

“I will get you out of this cage, and then, while I seek out Faust, you find the keys to everyone else’s cages and help them,” Hanzo explained. “Find a way out of the castle, I will find you later. Do you understand?”

 

“I understand,” Genji said.

 

“Good. Now let’s get you out.” He studied the cage, searching for any sigils or symbols that indicated a magical enchantment on the cage. Deeming it safe to use his fire on it, he wrapped his hands around the metal and drew on his last reserves of energy, when the drake shrieked in her cage near the front of the room, her long armoured tail striking the walls and floor. Others joined in the cacophony, retreating from the front of their cages.

 

Hanzo whipped around, teeth bared in a snarl and claws drawn.

 

Standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on a cane, stood a tall, slender, black-haired man with grey streaks at the temples, dressed smartly in a white shirt, black slacks, and a pair of polished black shoes. His sharp, pointed face sported a neatly cropped beard, and his eyes were two distinct colours – pale silver on the left, hazel gold on the right. His smug smile revealed two sharp canines on the top and bottom row of teeth.

 

Faust.


	8. XI Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XI. Justice  
> If you have acted with kindness and fairness towards others and, especially, if you have been a victim, Justice is a significant indicator of a positive resolution. For the unjust and the cruel, take heed, retribution is close.

Hanzo lunged, giving him no time to prepare. Faust was ready for him regardless, blocking his first punch with a flick of his cane. Hanzo advanced on him with claws and teeth and a slashing tail, fire sparking at his fingertips, his energy depleted after the earlier lengthy fights. Behind him, the prisoners screamed and shouted, spitting curses at Faust and yelling encouragements at Hanzo.

 

Pushing him back into the main laboratory, Hanzo shot a stream of fire at Faust, and he leapt over the nearest stone slab, ducking behind it to protect himself from the heat.

 

Hanzo followed, leaping up onto it as Faust hurried to his feet, pivoting on the ball of his foot and drawing a sword from his cane. Hanzo resisted rolling his eyes, but only barely, nimbly dodging the thrust of the narrow rapier Faust held in his hands. If he could grab it, he would be able to snap it into pieces.

 

He leapt as Faust swung at his ankles, landing gracefully on the nearby worktable, sending vials and tubes crashing to the floor. Their contents spilled across the floor in an oil slick, staining fallen papers and quills that had tumbled with them. The smell assaulted Hanzo like a wave of sewage, and he gagged, covering his mouth and nose with one arm. His eyes watered, and he slashed his tail through the air, striking Faust in his side.

 

Faust tumbled to the floor with a shout, his head striking the corner of one of the benches he used to hold his victims down. He lay limp, sprawled across the floor, unconscious.

 

Hanzo snorted, staring down at him for several long heartbeats, waiting. He didn’t move. Hanzo couldn’t even hear him breathe over the roar of the fire, or the white noise of the prisoners in the room beyond the laboratory. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he slipped down from the table and crept over to Faust, reaching out to search his pockets for keys to the cells.

 

Faust rolled onto his back, grabbing his wrist and slicing a black bladed knife across his arm, spilling blood.

 

Hanzo yelled in pain and rage, punching Faust across the temple and falling back when he released him, putting distance between them. Faust got to his feet, laughing as he twirled the knife in his hand, bending down to retrieve his sword.

 

Hanzo huffed, nursing his wounded arm. The knife had slashed through the material of his _Gi_ and sank through the armoured scales that were supposed to protect him. He stared at Faust, the wound in his head above his eye pouring blood down half his face, a shallow dent in his skull where he had struck it. The strike to the temple Hanzo had delivered should have killed him, if not, knocked him out at least.

 

“You’re a mature Dracona,” Faust observed with a slow, cool drawl, examining the knife. A thin trail of Hanzo’s blood dripped from the point, and Faust caught a bead before it fell, rubbing it between two fingers. “I wasn’t expecting that when I picked up the green one.”

 

“You will not speak of my brother!”

 

“Ah. Brothers. Interesting.” He said it as a scientist would after an unexpected development in an experiment, making Hanzo bristle.

 

“You should be dead,” he remarked, keeping his distance from Faust as he tried to approach.

 

“I’ve found some reliable methods to keep myself going,” Faust answered, flipping the knife in his hand. His belt was devoid of keys, and Hanzo saw none hanging from the walls that would release Genji and the others. He didn’t get a chance to look further, when Faust lunged again.

 

He dodged the rapier with a sharp turn, jumping out of reach of the curved swing of the black knife that could pierce his armoured scales. He summoned a meagre portion of his remaining power, and swept a blast of air at Faust, blowing him back against the far wall.

 

With some distance between them, he drew his bow from his back, loading an arrow and shooting for his eye.

 

Faust darted to the side, the arrow embedded into the wall. Hanzo turned on the spot, following Faust’s movements. One after another, he released his supply of arrows. One caught Faust’s thigh, causing him to stumble. Another sliced across his ribs. Another struck his hand, forcing him to drop his sword a second time.

 

Still, he did not fall, despite his injuries. His face contorted in rage, glaring at Hanzo as they circled each other.

 

“I think I’d quite like to have you in my collection. Parts of you, anyway,” Faust mused. “You would be far more useful than the other one.”

 

“You won’t have a collection after tonight,” Hanzo promised, and lunged for him again.

 

Instead of meeting him head on, Faust turned and ran, knocking an old, rusty bell near the door that knelled ominously through the room. Hanzo slowed, narrowing his eyes.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Keeping this fight favourable,” Faust said with a twisted grin.

 

The heavy grating of stones slipping past each other caught Hanzo’s ear, and Hanzo turned to see a door forming in the wall. From the depths, several large, hulking suits of armour marched forward, filing into the room and surrounding Hanzo.

 

He eyed them each in turn: about six to one, each of them nearly twice his height and twice as broad as him. They all carried giant weapons, holding them with ease.

 

Hanzo tensed, watching to see who would attack first.

 

The one to his left took charge, swinging his axe over his head and bringing it down over Hanzo. Hanzo dived out of the way, rolling across the floor as the axe blade split the floor, carving a deep gouge into the stone.

 

He fell at the feet of one with a mace, the spiked ball gleaming deadly in the firelight as the guard swung it in a wide arc. Hanzo ducked, slipping between his legs and running, seeking distance.

 

The guards followed, close on his tail. They cornered him, swinging and smashing their great weapons in an attempt to hit him.

 

Where they had size and strength, he had speed and nimbleness, spinning and weaving through their attacks, never stopping even as he tired. He knew it would not be long before his energy was depleted, his magic already dangerously low. He did not have much left to use in battle, even the last of his arrows were littered around the room, useless to him unless he could collect them.

 

The guards would not let him get close to them, keeping him on the defence, pushing him back whenever he tried to get close. He panted for breath, his legs shaking from exertion. His arm throbbed where it had been cut, blood soaking into his sleeve. He needed a break, a moment to think and find a weakness in their armour. Faust calmly watched him from behind his worktable, waiting for his servants to best him and bring him to the stone slab.

He narrowly avoided the swing of a spear from one, when he made a mistake, his back turned to the guard with a giant hammer. A hand clamped around his arm, pulling him from his feet.

 

He shrieked, twisting and turning in his grip furiously as the other guards fell still, falling into a line between Faust and the guard holding Hanzo.

 

“Well done,” Faust said, clapping slowly. “Bring him here, we will start immediately. I have heard much about Dracona scales and their properties.”

 

“No!” Hanzo howled, scratching and clawing at the armoured guard, who did not move from where he stood.

 

Hanzo and Faust noticed this at the same time. Hanzo stared at the guard, his brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“What are you waiting for, you idiot?” Faust snarled. “Bring him to me!”

 

The guard turned his head, looking away from Faust to meet Hanzo’s gaze.

 

Hanzo blinked, his eyes widening as he realised the servant had eyes peering through the narrow slit in his visor. While the others had empty black hollows, this one had one bright blue eye, and one glassy white one. The white one closed, winking at Hanzo.

 

Even more confused, he watched as the guard picked up his hammer and swung it, around and around, building up speed until he threw it directly up at the ceiling above their heads. All eyes turned upwards as the hammer crashed into the stone, smashing through it and causing a wave of broken stone and mortar and wooden beams to crash down around them.

 

Hanzo shielded his head, although the bulk of the guard holding him protected him from the most of it. The rest of the laboratory was not so lucky, tables and bookcases breaking apart under the avalanche. One of the guards was flattened, the armour nothing but an empty shell that buckled under the weight of the ceiling.

 

The guard caught his hammer as it fell, and the dust cleared from the air. Hanzo coughed, blinking the grit and dirt out of his eyes, looking up at the ceiling when movement caught his eye through the hole it created. He blinked again, disbelief convincing him he was wrong, when he saw a group gathered around the opening, lead by --

 

“Jesse!”

 

Jesse leapt into the room and glided to the floor, stumbling as he landed on an awkward pile of stone. He rushed forward as the guard dropped Hanzo, and Hanzo opened his arms, letting Jesse fall into them as they embraced.

 

“What are you doing here, you fool?” Hanzo asked, wrapping his arms tight around Jesse’s shoulders, relief dulling the pain of the knife wound. “You should have found a way out of here!”

 

“I couldn’t,” Jesse replied, his words half-lost against Hanzo’s skin. “I couldn’t run away.”

 

“You could’ve, you could’ve!” Hanzo replied, pulling away slightly and cupping Jesse’s face, studying it. “I told you I bore no ill will! I would have found you and given you a dragon scale!”

 

“Well, I figured, maybe I’d find you first,” he said, holding up the compass between them. Hanzo stared at it, his words stolen from his tongue as Jesse smiled at him shyly.

 

“You wanted to come back here?”

 

“I wanted to come back to you,” Jesse said. His face flushed red, clearing his throat. “I mean, I wanted to come back and help you, like I said. I brought back up, too.”

 

Hanzo looked around as the people they had met on their journey jumped down into the laboratory to join them. Jack and Gabe stood side by side, surveying the four remaining suits of armour that squared off against them.

 

“Is this all?” Gabriel asked.

 

“Less than a walk in the park,” Jack agreed.

 

“Woo! Yer in trouble now, fellas! Me and ol’ Roadie’s gonna show you what hurtin’s all about!” Junkrat whooped, riding on the shoulder of the last guard Hanzo and Jesse had run across. Both had their masks removed, revealing their true faces: Junkrat, a skinny and pointy-faced young man, while the man he called Roadie was older, and white haired, wearing a seemingly permanent exasperated look.

 

Hanzo raised an eyebrow, a smile curving the corner of his lip at the sight, when the guard behind him removed his helmet, and beamed down at them.

 

“Well, my friends, it seems our words and our intentions can be one and the same, yes?” he said, laughing.

 

Hanzo cocked his head to the side, confused, and glanced at Jesse out the corner of his eye. Jesse smiled wryly, and shrugged.

  
“He’s a good guy,” he said as way of an explanation. Hanzo conceded, and decided not to ask too many questions. He turned his attention back to Faust, hiding behind the row of armour facing them.

 

“Destroy them!” Faust snarled. “Destroy each and every one of them and bring me the scraps! I’ll get some use of them yet.”

 

Hanzo pushed Jesse behind him, regrouping with the men they had gathered, facing the suits of armour. He looked over his shoulder at Jesse, squeezing his hand. “Keep away from Faust and the battle. Go into the prison cells and check that no one was hurt when the ceiling fell. See if you can find a way to open the cages.”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

Hanzo nodded, and turned back to Faust as Jesse slipped around the debris to the edges of the room, climbing over the broken tables and benches and equipment. Hanzo watched him go until he was sure no one followed him, Faust’s eyes too focused on Hanzo and the rag tag group come back to haunt him.

 

“I warned you, your experiments end tonight,” Hanzo growled. His eyes gleamed, and they began to glow a pale, blue-white. The dragon flared on his arm, its scales rippling across his tattooed skin. Its golden eyes shone in the firelight, blue flames rippling down its back. It scorched up Hanzo’s arms, his veins burning black as they swelled in his neck. His throat glowed red hot, like a furnace, and cinders spilled from his lips as he drew in a deep breath, and exhaled a raging plume of fire.

 

*

 

Jesse hurried through the prison block, checking in each cell and searching for hidden nooks and gaps in the walls that could hold keys or an artefact or even a scrap piece of metal that could be used as a lockpick. The occupants of the cells watched him curiously as he searched, confirming their well-being as he passed.

 

“Hey! Hey!” someone yelled from further up the hall, and Jesse looked up to see a young, semi-scaled face pressed against the bars of his cage, watching Jesse expectantly. “What’s going on out there? Is my brother okay?”

 

“Your brother?” Jesse repeated, realisation dawning on him. “You’re Genji!”

 

“Yes, I am!” Genji said proudly, with a little tilt of his head, before he became serious again. “Now, what’s going on? Who are you?”

 

“I’m Jesse, I helped your brother get here,” Jesse explained, approaching Genji’s cage. He didn’t mention their argument or how badly they were waylaid in getting there, due to Jesse’s lies.

 

“Really?” Genji asked with a grin. “I can’t remember the last time Hanzo interacted with someone he actually wanted to be around, except me, of course.”

 

He cocked his head to the side, studying Jesse. “It must be because he actually, really likes you.”

 

Jesse coughed awkwardly, willing himself not to blush. “Hanzo is fighting Faust and his servants. He has some help, too. We’ll have you guys out in no time!”

 

“How’re you planning to do that?” Genji asked, folding his arms and leaning on them. “There are no keys.”

 

“The cages only open at Faust’s touch,” a voice said from the cage beside Genji’s. “I believe it is something on his person that gives him this power.”

 

Jesse turned at the sound of the calm, soothing voice, staring at the glowing green eyes of the tentacled figure floating in the middle of his cell. The man raised a hand in greeting, cheerfully introducing himself. “Greetings. I am Zenyatta.”

 

“Uh… hi,” Jesse replied, waving one hand in return. He looked at Genji, who pouted.

 

“Not in a cult.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

*

 

Hanzo pushed Faust back, further and further into the corner as the others battled the suits of armour. Bullet holes speckled the walls from the shots fired by Gabriel, Mako’s hook clearing whole tables of equipment and ledgers, papers and dust and glass flying as they fought. Small, erratic explosions, like mini fireworks crackled across the ground, lobbed by Junkrat at the suits of armour along with his taunts and jeers.

 

Hanzo swung his bow like a sword, his throat red and raw from using his fire breath. Smoke billowed from the corners of his lips, his chest expelling the excess chemicals to clear his airways. Tired, he could not gain the upper hand, and Faust was slowly turning his offence into defence once more. Then his foot slipped, and he twisted the wrong way.

 

Faust grabbed one of his horns, twisting his head.

 

He cried out in pain, and Faust kicked at his legs, forcing him to his knees and yanking his head back. The cold, black steel of the knife pressed at his exposed throat, his pulse fluttering rapidly under it. Above him, Faust panted heavily, sweat beading on his brow as he stared down at Hanzo, his heterochromatic eyes wide and wild.

 

“You’ve cost me quite a bit, today, Dracona,” he panted. “It’s time to pay it back.”

 

“No!”

 

They both stopped, looking up as Jesse appeared in the doorway between the lab and the prison block, his eyes wide with panic. The others halted their fight, the last of the suits of armour defeated, and they turned to face Faust, hefting their weapons.

 

“Jesse! Jesse, stay away!” Hanzo warned.

 

“What is this, little bird?” Faust asked, causing a visible shiver to run through Jesse.

 

Jesse took a shaky step forward, his eyes never leaving Hanzo.

 

“Jesse, don’t!” Hanzo tried again, the fear visible on Jesse’s face even from the opposite side of the room.

 

“Leave him alone,” Jesse warned, ignoring Hanzo and addressing Faust directly.

 

“Or you’ll what, little bird?” Faust taunted, pulling Hanzo’s head back sharply, pressing the knife in just a little. Not enough to cut, just enough to threaten. “All you have is a few little wishes to give, and they won’t save him from my knife.”

 

Jesse swallowed, the collar shifting with the motion. He took a deep breath, and pushed his shoulders back, pulling himself up to his full height. His wings unfurled from his back, the pale, creamy white feathers rippling as they fanned out, stretching and relaxing, like they were breathing. Constellations bloomed on Jesse’s skin, the pale scars fading against the pale glow of the white dots dusting his skin, like luminescent freckles. He blinked, and his eyes changed, the brown replaced with a luminous, burning crimson that pierced Hanzo like a blade, rendering him speechless. Never had an Avarius’s full power been revealed to those outside their race.

 

Jesse finally looked up from Hanzo, his attention turned to Faust, his crimson eyes blazing as he advanced, his feet leaving scorch marks on the floor, as if he held the heat of the sun inside his body.

 

Faust snarled, pulling Hanzo back. This time, Hanzo went with the motion, throwing his weight back against Faust and sending them toppling to the floor. He felt one horn sink into Faust’s skin, piercing his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around the arm that held his knife, bending it at an angle until he heard a snap.

 

Faust howled with pain, and Hanzo pulled himself free of his grip. The last of his strength spent, he crawled away, staring in awe at the sight before him.

 

Light exuded from Jesse, haloing him like the rays of the sun.

 

“You know where true power lies?” Jesse asked, his voice deep and haunting, resonating throughout the room. “You know what really makes it work?”

 

Faust snarled, crawling backwards with one arm. From the gap in his shirt, a small purple crystal dangled from a leather strap.

 

“It all comes from the heart,” Jesse said. “That may be all I know, but it’s enough, cause that power is something that can only be given, not stolen.”

 

His eyes found Hanzo’s again briefly, before he turned back to Faust. “And that kind of power burns like the sun. It burns through everything.”

 

The light grew brighter, emanating from Jesse’s very centre. It expanded, filling the entire room, and Hanzo had to avert his gaze, squeezing his eyes shut against the glare, as if the light of the midday sun burned in the middle of the room. The heat enveloped him, not burning, but warm and soothing against his skin, slowly seeping strength back into his bones. Distantly, he heard Faust scream, and the shattering of crystal into a million pieces.

 

The light faded, and Jesse still stood, wavering on the spot. Blood dripped from his nose, his eyes rolling up into his head. He collapsed in a heap, motionless. Hanzo stared at his body, his heart in his throat as he forced himself to stand, pulling himself to his feet. Around him, his allies pulled themselves to their feet as well, looking around in a daze.

 

“Well, crikey, did we win?” Junkrat asked. Mako shrugged, licking his fingertips and putting out a small flame on the tip of Junkrat’s hair.

 

A hacking cough drew Hanzo’s attention, and he watched in horror as Faust slowly pulled himself to his feet, his skin badly burnt from the strength of Jesse’s power.

 

“You… You can’t beat me,” he coughed and spluttered, falling back to the floor when his legs wouldn’t carry him. “You can’t kill me. I am… I am the immortal… I will live for- for-”

 

The creak of old, rusted metal grated in Hanzo’s ears, and he looked over his shoulder, through into the dungeon as the doors to the cages and cells swung open.

 

Down the length of the room, the occupants stared at the open doors, and slunk out of their cages. They crowded into the laboratory, their gazes searching, before their eyes fell to Faust, lying helpless on the ground. Faust met each of their cold, furious glares, looking around in panic.

 

“Stay back!” he warned frantically, attempting to crawl away as they advanced on him. “No! No! Stay back! I warn you! No! No!”

 

Hanzo turned away from the grisly scene as the prisoners descended on him, tearing him limb from limb.


	9. VI The Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> VI. The Lovers  
> Representing relationships and choices, The Lovers indicate a decision to be made about an existing relationship, a temptation of the heart, or a choice of potential partners. Whatever the choice, it should not be made lightly.

Hanzo ran to Jesse’s side, dropping to his knees beside him and wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Carefully gathering Jesse close to him, he brushed his hair out of his face, stroking his thumb across his cheek as he listened for breathing.

 

“Jesse?” he whispered. “Jesse, can you hear me?”

 

Jesse answered with a small, weak groan, his eyes fluttering open and his warm brown eyes rolling up to stare at Hanzo. He blinked several times, as if slow to recognise Hanzo, before his gaze cleared, and he smiled up at him. “Hey there, partner.”

 

Hanzo smiled back, breathing a sigh of relief. “Hello Jesse.”

 

“Did we win?” Jesse asked, holding onto Hanzo’s arm, his palm warm against Hanzo’s skin.

 

“Yes, we had some help from some friends,” Hanzo replied wryly, looking over his shoulder as the crowd drew back from Faust’s body, dusting themselves off and wiping their hands. Genji caught sight of Hanzo curled over Jesse, and his face fell, running towards them.

 

"Is he--?"

 

"He's alright, Genji." He turned back to Jesse, dropping his head to press their foreheads together. “You fool, you should’ve escaped and found me later. I would still have given you one of my dragon scales.”

 

“I got scared,” Jesse admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to be on my own. I’ve always been… and I thought… I thought if I helped, I’d make up for lying to you.”

 

Hanzo tutted, hugging Jesse closer. “Fool. It’s me who should be sorry, Jesse. I should not have withheld freedom from you for so long.”

 

“Naw, Hanzo, I get why you did it. I was lying t’ya the whole time,” Jesse said, shaking his head. He reached up and held onto Hanzo's arm, squeezing it gently. “I was being selfish to try and use you like that. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about being an Astrali either, I - ”

 

“That does not matter, and your reasons for lying about your knowledge of the castle does not make what I did right,” Hanzo replied. “I still wish to make up for it, as promised.”

 

He withdrew his hand, his fingers disappearing under his collar. A sharp sting accompanied the scale prying loose from the skin underneath, and he held it out for Jesse to take. Jesse looked between it and Hanzo, hesitantly reaching for it. Hanzo nodded encouragingly when he paused. Their fingers brushed as Jesse took the scale, and it began to glow.

 

*

 

Guided by Jack’s compass, the company found themselves stepping through the back door into the golden yellow rays of the setting sun, the sky painted with deep violets and reds, the sand a deep, burnt orange-yellow. Jesse breathed in the cool, fresh air of the evening, closing his eyes and drinking in the last of the warmth from the sinking sun. Around him, the fellow prisoners were speaking among themselves, thanking Hanzo for his help and rejoicing in the freedom they now each had.

 

He smiled to see Genji holding onto Zenyatta in a piggy back, floating at head height above the ground, without any intention of letting him go. The monk didn’t seem to mind, holding the lotus pose with a dragon on his back with ease. Hanzo seemed less pleased, but said nothing to dissuade Genji from his antics, simply rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Catching Hanzo’s eye, Jesse quickly turned away, looking out across the flat plain. He ran his fingertips over his neck, the skin tender and red, but no longer trapped in the collar.

 

“Stop that,” Hanzo said, coming to stand beside him. “You’ll irritate the skin.”

 

“Sorry,” Jesse replied, dropping his hand away. “It’ll take some getting used to I suppose.”

 

“Will it take long to recover your strength?” Hanzo asked.

 

Jesse shrugged. “Not sure. The sun will help. Food. Water. Rest. All that stuff should do the trick. Takes a lot out of you, y’know, running ‘round a castle, fighting, flying.”

 

“I do know,” Hanzo agreed. “It takes time to recover from that.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Jesse smiled, and Hanzo smiled back. They descended into silence, unsure what to say to each other. Jesse figured he should scarper quick, but couldn’t find the words or the way to say goodbye and never see him or any of them again. Hanzo seemed to be just as lost for words for Jesse, perhaps searching for a way to tell him he never wanted to see him around after everything that had happened.

 

“Just invite him home, already!” Genji called behind them, and Hanzo flushed bright red.

 

“Genji!” he cried, mortified.

 

“What? C’mon, he’s an Avarius, who wouldn’t want to invite him home?” Genji goaded.

 

“Shut up!”

 

“Hey, do you want to come stay with us for a little while?” Genji asked Jesse, leaning over Zenyatta’s shoulder. “We have plenty of food, and water, and rest. And Storm’s Peak sits on the side of a mountain, the sunrises and sunsets are beautiful from the south side.”

 

“Genji! I am warning you!”

 

“It’s alright, Hanzo,” Jesse said, laughing as Hanzo buried his head in his hands. “The offer is appreciated.”

 

“So, you’re coming?” Genji answered. “Zenyatta’s coming back with us, as well, right Hanzo? Actually we should see if anyone else needs accommodation for a night or two.”

 

“Hey!” he addressed the slowly dispersing crowd. “Anyone need a roof over their heads for the night? Our place has plenty room! It’ll be a bit late by the time we get there if we’re not flying, but we can make it no problem.”

 

“Genji!” Hanzo said, drawing Genji’s attention back to him. Hanzo huffed a breath, his features softening into a warm smile. “Keep track of the numbers, so we know how many beds to prepare.”

 

“Yes!” Genji crowed, immediately turning to the merman – standing on two legs, after his tail dried out - and extending the offer to him.

 

Jesse chuckled as Genji quickly gathered a small party together, cheerfully taking centre of attention from Zenyatta’s back. “He’s quite… exuberant, ain’t he?”

 

“Quite,” Hanzo agreed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He scratched his fingers through his hair, and raised his eyes to meet Jesse’s. “You… You are more than welcome, to come with us. You said you were alone for so long, perhaps you could stay with us for a while. Until you recover, at least, and then after…”

 

“After?”

 

“You may do as you please, of course,” Hanzo said. “But Avarius are rare, and highly valued, especially their hearts. You would find all the necessary protection in Strom's Peak.”

 

“You’d do that for me?” Jesse asked.

 

“Of course,” Hanzo agreed, flicking his hair over his shoulder. “The Dracona are one of the five guardians of Stormsreach, only a fool would dare cross us. You saw what happened when did.  You’d be quite safe there, there’d be no one who would be able to steal your heart.”

 

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Jesse replied in honesty, and Hanzo flushed a darker red, looking away. Jesse ducked his gaze, clearing his throat.

 

“So, that’s a yes?” Hanzo ventured.

 

“Yeah, if you want me to tag along,” Jesse agreed, smiling hesitantly at Hanzo. “I think it would be a nice place to rest up.”

 

“I’m glad you agree,” Hanzo said. “Genji will be delighted to have more company.”

 

“And, what about you?” Jesse asked. “Do you ever need company?”

 

Hanzo opened his mouth to speak, when Genji interrupted them, calling them from ahead. The group had already began walking, Genji beckoning them to follow. Hanzo sighed, waving back at Genji. “We’re coming!”

 

He turned to Jesse, extending his arm in front of him. “As I was saying... your presence at Storm's Peak would be most welcome. By everyone there."

 

"You sure? Last chance to back out."

 

Instead of answering, Hanzo reached out and slipped his hand into Jesse’s, carding their fingers together and squeezing reassuringly. "Shall we?”

 

Heat crept up Jesse’s neck and across his cheeks, but he didn’t pull away, squeezing back. He nodded silently, falling into step beside Hanzo as they followed the small crowd led by Genji back home in the light of the setting sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.
> 
> This story was loosely based on some concepts and ideas seen in Jim Henson's "The Labyrinth" and Neil Gaiman's "Stardust". My writing is rusty when it comes to fight and action scenes, but none the less I hope I did Rune's original prompt justice after she painted such a wonderful piece to be paired with this fic. <3
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoyed your stay
> 
> ~ Lux

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will be posted staggered throughout the evening, the next one will be in about an hour.


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